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The twins straightened up as if by magic 













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Copyright, 1936 
By 

ALBERT WHITMAN & CO. 




To my son, whose encouragement 
made this boo\ possible . 

—Besse Schiff 


Printed in the U.S.A. 


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CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Friendly Village . 11 

A Playmate . 21 

Almost Disaster . 32 

Jeremiah . 41 

Hetty Helps with the Pictures. 52 

In Church with Lydia. 61 

Shep Saves the Day. 70 

Good-bye, Friendly Village. 81 

A New Town. 91 

Twin Babies . 102 

An Indian Pageant 113 

Off with the Old and on with the New. 122 

A Fire in the Little House. 132 

Hailstones . 137 

Hetty Overhears a Conversation 143 

A Home All Their Own. 148 












































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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T^zV was their first day on the road 















































Chapter I 

FRIENDLY VILLAGE 

H ETTY sat on the high seat of the Picture Wag¬ 
on beside her father. She wondered how much 
farther it was to the little town which was to 
be their home for the next few weeks, or at 
least until no one wanted any more pictures taken. 

This was their first day on the road; they had started 
early that morning before the sun was up and Hetty was 
beginning to get a bit tired. 

n 


















12 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Even Old Doll was now sauntering along quite slow¬ 
ly, for she, too, was feeling the effects of the day’s travel. 
She had trotted rather briskly all day, with only a short 
stop for lunch, and the day was warm. Then, too, the 
Picture Wagon was heavy for one horse to pull. Not that 
Old Doll was thin; the fact was that she was almost too 
fat to travel fast. 

Father held the lines loosely, and for the time seemed 
so occupied with his thoughts that he scarcely noticed 
Hetty. She felt sure he was thinking some important 
thoughts and should not be disturbed. She busied her¬ 
self watching the men at work in the fields which they 
passed. That took her mind off her tired legs, which did 
not reach the floor of the wagon, unless she sat on the 
very edge of the seat. The edge was sharp and not at 
all comfortable, but by changing positions she managed 
to rest herself. 

She wondered what the men were doing in the fields. 
What were they planting, or were they planting? What 
was the velvety green carpet that covered some of the 
fields? She knew it wasn’t grass, for it was a different 
shade from the grass that grew along the country roads 
on which they were traveling. Was it wheat or was it 
oats? She must find out while she was in the country. 

Hetty knew many things about the noisy, smoky 
city, but she was beginning to think she would have to 
go back to the primer when it came to knowing any¬ 
thing about the country. But how she loved it! She 
hoped she could stay in the country forever. The air 



FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


i3 


smelled so fresh and sweet as it blew gently against her 
face. The birds were singing their newest melodies for 
her especial benefit, or so she thought. 

Near the crooked rail fence along the side of the road 
there were what seemed to Hetty millions of lovely 
spring beauties, and here and there she caught sight of 
some blue johnny-jump-ups. She thought she would 
like to stop awhile and pick her hands full of the fra¬ 
grant spring blossoms, but there would be plenty of 
time for that later on, she felt sure. A squirrel jumped 
up on the topmost rail of the fence, flicked his tail, and 
ran along the fence as if he were racing with Old Doll 
and wished to show her some speed. 

The sun, which had been shining all of that lovely 
April day, was fast disappearing behind the tall trees 
in the distant woods. Father had said they would reach 
their destination before nightfall. Well, it couldn’t be 
long now. 

Hetty glowed with anticipation; then she thought of 
Father. She hoped he would get well and strong in 
the pure country air. The doctor had told him he must 
get out of the bad air of the stuffy city. Then he had 
sold his big art studio in the city apartment, keeping 
only his smaller camera and such equipment as he 
would need to take pictures in a small way. 

He had a man make the “Traveling Gallery,” 
which was really a little house on wheels. The man 
who made the new house called it a “Picture Wagon ” 
because Father was going to use it as a studio. 



i4 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty thought the little house on wheels was just 
about the finest she had ever seen, far surpassing the 
playhouse of her dreams. And to think it was their 
very own, and they could ride in it anywhere they 
wanted to go, seeing different towns and different 
people. 

Hetty was thinking, too, of all the ways she would 
help Father. Mother had died so long ago that she 
could remember nothing about her. Always it had 
been Father who had done things for her. Now, it was 
high time she started looking after him, especially since 
he was not so strong. She had helped Father with the 
cooking, now she would learn all about pictures also, 
for Father must get well and strong. 

Gradually the light began to fade as the sun hid 
itself for the night. Hetty strained her blue eyes for¬ 
ward for some sign of an approaching village, but none 
seemed forthcoming. Could Father have been mis¬ 
taken, she wondered? 

There had been no rain for several days and the roads 
were as dry as powder. A cloud of dust ahead of them 
obscured the view. 

“How far are we from Fort Jefferson, Father?” asked 
Hetty, unable to hold in any longer. 

“Not far now, Hetty. Not more than two miles at 
the most. You can soon see the church spire,” he an¬ 
swered, coming out of his reverie. “Are you tired?” 

Hetty straightened up with a new determination. 
“Not very much, only with sitting,” she admitted. 



FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


i5 


She continued her watch and when the dust cleared 
away, she could see the church spire in the distance, 
reaching its thin arm high up into the blue sky. 

“There it is, Father! I see the church spire! How 
much higher than the buildings it must be. I don’t 
see any houses yet!” cried Hetty. She shivered with 
excitement, wondering just what the town would be 
like. “Tell me what you know about it, Father. The 
town, I mean.” 

Father adjusted the reins in the other hand comfort¬ 
ably, and smiled down at Hetty’s eager, upturned face. 
His thoughts slipped back to the time when he was a 
young man. He had taught school in this very town. 
He thought of the happy days he had spent here. When 
he spoke it was not of those thoughts. What he said 
was, “One of the finest churches in all the country 
round is in Fort Jefferson. I was never in a more beau¬ 
tiful one.” 

Hetty’s eager look changed to one of glad surprise. 
“Then you have been here before, Father?” 

“Yes, but that was long ago. I have not been back 
in many years. No doubt it has changed a great deal,” 
he answered, looking ahead at the distant horizon. 

By the time they had finished talking about the ap¬ 
proaching town, they were at its very doors. People 
seemed to be spilling out of every house. The doors 
were open, and children were playing in the streets. 
It was a funny little town, quite different from any 
Hetty had ever seen. The people nodded to them as 



16 THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


they passed. Hetty thought they knew her father and 
were pleased to see him. She could not understand it. 

“Who are all these people, Father? Do they all re¬ 
member you? Even the children seem happy to see 
us,” she added. 

“The children would not remember me, Hetty. They 
are just friendly. All of the people are friendly,” ex¬ 
plained Father. 

“I think I shall call it Friendly Town instead of Fort 
Jefferson,” insisted Hetty, waving to the children as 
she passed. 

Secretly, Hetty thought that it was the little house 
on wheels that made the people look. No doubt they 
wondered what it could be doing in their small village. 
She felt sure they had never seen anything half so fine! 

On down through the main street of the town they 
drove. 

“Where do we stop, Father?” Hetty could contain 
herself no longer, for it looked as if they were going 
right through the little town without stopping. “Aren’t 
we going to stay here tonight?” 

“Yes, of course we are. I have rented a lot on the edge 
of town for our stay here. We are almost there now,” 
assured her father. 

And as they passed on along the main street, they 
soon came to the plot where they were to make their 
home—at least, it would be their home for a while. 
Father drove the little Picture Wagon right in the mid¬ 
dle of the green grassy lot and stopped. 



FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


17 


“Here we are!” cried Father. “All hands out!” 

Hetty climbed quickly down before Father had a 
chance to help her. How good it felt to be able to 
stretch her tired legs. 

“What a nice carpet we have for our yard!” exclaimed 
Hetty, dancing around in the soft, velvety green grass. 

“Yes, and what a good dinner it will make for Old 
Doll!” added Father. 

“And I can watch her along the road, while she eats 
grass; can’t I, Father?” asked Hetty. “There was lovely 
long grass along the roads, too.” 

Hetty unfastened the traces and with Father’s help 
tied up the lines. She held on to the rein while he 
went to the house next door to ask if they might keep 
Old Doll in their stable at night—for of course she 
could stay in the lot during the day—that is, if they tied 
her fast to a strap. Father soon returned to say that 
the neighbor was willing to share the stable. 

By the time the horse was put up for the night, the 
stars began to dot the sky like so many diamond points. 

Hetty could hardly wait to get things ready for sup¬ 
per. When the coal oil lamp was lit it sent a cheery 
glow over the little house. While Father went to the 
house next door to see if he could buy a bottle of milk, 
Hetty prepared things for the evening meal. 

This was like playing house. First she lit the two- 
burner oil stove and put the coffee on to boil. Then she 
let down the small drop-leaf table which was hooked 
up on the side of the kitchenette. The business of set- 



18 THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


ting the table took only a jiffy; everything was so 
handy in the tiny cupboard by the stove. 

Hetty remembered the nice ham Father had includ¬ 
ed in the groceries before they left the city, and she 
proceeded to cut some for their supper. It was more of 
a task than she thought it would be, and she was work¬ 
ing hard at it when Father appeared at the door. Just 
then she gave the knife an extra push, when whack! 
her finger was right in the way of the sharp knife! 

“Now you’ve done it!” cried Father. “You should 
let your old dad do the carving. Let’s see how badly 
it’s hurt!” And he examined the cut finger. “I’ll fix it 
up in no time at all!” 

He found the medicine kit at once, and soon had the 
injured finger wrapped skillfully. Hetty remembered 
that Father had told her that he had studied to be a 
doctor when he was in college; then his mother had 
become ill, and he was not permitted to finish his 
course. No wonder he could make such a professional¬ 
looking bandage. 

The accident did not deter Hetty from her cooking, 
for as she said, she didn’t use that finger very much 
anyhow. She put the frying pan on the stove and filled 
it full of the ham that Father had finished cutting. 
When it was done to a turn, she cracked two eggs into 
the hot grease and fried them just as Father had taught 
her, lifting them out with the long-handled pancake 
turner. Father insisted on cutting the bread, for he 
said he didn’t want Hetty “cutting up any more mon- 



FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


i9 


key shines” with the knife. One cut finger at a time 
was quite enough, he declared. 

In the few minutes it took to prepare the meal Father 
sat on a kitchen chair and watched Hetty. It seemed 
hardly possible that his little girl was really growing 
up, but he had to admit it. 

Soon everything was in readiness; the coffee was 
poured into Father’s cup with some of the rich milk 
from the Jersey cow next door. Hetty poured herself 
a generous glass of the same good milk. 

“This milk has a different complexion from what we 
bought in the city, hasn’t it, Father?” joked Hetty, and 
Father agreed. 

The two pulled their chairs up to the small table 
with the lighted lamp right in the middle of it. As 
Father looked over the table at the appetizing food, then 
at his little daughter, he declared, “This is a meal fit 
for a king!” 

“Yes, it is,” affirmed Hetty, “and you are a king. At 
least, I’m supposed to obey you!” 

“And what would that make you?” joked Father. 

“That would make me your subject,” reasoned Hetty. 

“Wouldn’t you rather be a princess?” asked Father. 

“Yes, I would, but I’m afraid I don’t look much 
like one!” returned Hetty, thinking of her choppy 
black curls. “Princesses always have long flowing hair 
the color of gold. I think I’ll just be your faithful sub¬ 
ject, or,” she added thoughtfully, “I might be your 
court helper!” 



20 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


And they might have been Jack Spratt and his wife 
from the looks of the table after they had finished eat¬ 
ing! For as Father said, “If everything is cleaned up, 
it will be a sunshiny day tomorrow!” 

Hetty began the dishwashing and Father unfolded 
the twin cots from their place on the wall of their 
small living room. By the time the dishes were finished 
and placed in their small cupboard, Father had two 
inviting-looking beds ready for two very tired people, 
and they were ready for them in no time at all. 

Hetty remembered to ask God to make Father strong 
and well and to send people to have their pictures taken. 
She lay there a long time before her eyes closed in 
sleep, wondering about many things. Would she like 
the little town? And would people want their pictures 
taken? Would Father’s health be better as the doctor 
had promised? 

Quiet brooded over the place. The intense silence 
kept her awake. She was used to noise and clamor. All 
at once she heard a tree frog croaking in the distance. 
It sounded so queer to her coming out of the silence 
that she almost laughed aloud! She did not know what 
it was. She listened again, but even the frog must have 
gone to sleep for she could hear nothing but her father’s 
regular breathing. 

Finally drowsiness overcame her and she drew a 
long breath. That was all she remembered until the 
sun shining through one of the small square windows 
fell on her face and woke her up. 



Chapter II 
A PLAYMATE 

Hetty blinked several times before she remembered 
that she was not in her gloomy apartment in the city. 
Her heart gave a little jump of joy when she thought 
of all the things she was going to do today. This meant 
that she would need to hop out of bed and get busy. 
Where was Father? His cot was empty, but it had not 
been put up for the day. No doubt he was afraid he 
would waken her. Well, she would have to do better 
than that if she was to be of any real assistance to her 
father. 



22 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


By the time she was dressed and had her bedding 
folded neatly, ready to fasten the bed up for the day, 
the door opened and Father came in carrying a bucket 
of fresh water from the well next door. 

“Good morning! How are you this morning?” he 
asked. 

“Fm fine, Father, but why didn’t you call me? Fm 
afraid Fm not much of a helper! ” acknowledged Hetty. 

“I hadn’t the heart to waken you,” answered Father. 
“You were sleeping so soundly. Anyway, Fve been up 
only a short while.” 

Hetty could smell the coffee. She sniffed again. 
What was that other tantalizing odor? Bacon! And 
she quickened her speed. All that was left for her to 
do was to place the things on the table. 

After breakfast Hetty cleared away the dishes and 
put the tiny kitchen in order, while Father got out the 
sign ART GALLERY, which he had painted before 
he left the city, and hung it above the door in the front 
of the little house. Then she straightened up the things 
in the studio, which was the most important room in 
the little house, for here was where people would have 
their pictures taken. 

Hetty gave the furniture a final “handkerchief dust¬ 
ing,” as she called it. After she had used the dust cloth, 
she would take out her little pocket handkerchief and 
wipe off any semblance of dust on the polished surface 
of the stands. Everything was in readiness for a cus¬ 
tomer. 



A PLAYMATE 


23 


Father had removed the singletree from the front of 
the Traveling Gallery and had placed the steps there. 
It would make it easier for customers to enter the door. 
Hetty thought it was fun to step “high and handsome,” 
as she called it, but customers might not like it so well. 
She laughed about the singletree, as Father called the 
beam that helped the old horse pull the Picture Wagon. 
She thought it was poorly named, for it looked like any¬ 
thing else but a tree! 

As Father came in from dressing up the front of the 
little house, Hetty inquired, “Do the people of the vil¬ 
lage know you are here? That is, do they know that 
you take pictures, Father?” She was overanxious for 
fear there would be no customers. 

“Of course they do,” assured Father. “I sent an ad¬ 
vertisement to the mayor to put in their paper. It isn’t 
a large paper they have here, but at least every one of 
the villagers reads it!” 

“I can hardly wait!” sang Hetty as she danced 
around the room. “I wonder who will be first?” 

“I have some business down town, Hetty. Do you 
want to go with me?” asked Father. 

“Oh, yes, I want to see the stores and the church and 
everything!” cried Hetty. 

So, while father talked to Mr. Whipker, the mayor of 
the village, in his stuffy, small office on the second floor 
of the Town Hall, Hetty walked on down the main 
street looking in the shop windows. They did not look 
much like the lovely large windows of the big depart- 



24 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


ment stores in the city, but Hetty liked it better, because 
it was so different. 

There was the baker’s window with its rows of 
cinnamon cakes. Hetty determined then and there 
to have Father buy one for their supper; that, with 
some coffee and milk, would be all they would need 
for the evening meal. They looked better the longer 
she looked at them. 

There was the big window of the general store, 
which from the looks of the window sold everything 
one could think of, and some things one never would 
think of. It was like the memory game she played at 
school; she walked past a table full of all sorts of 
things; then she wrote down all the names she could 
remember. 

Hetty decided she would play the game all by her¬ 
self. She looked carefully at everything in the window. 
When she got home she would see how many articles 
she could write down from memory. She knew she 
could not spell all of the words, but Father would help 
her. He liked to spell. Then it would make up in a 
way the last few weeks of school that she had missed 
because she had come with Father. 

Hetty did not have time to look in all of the win¬ 
dows, for she glanced up and saw Father waving to her. 
She would have many days to do the other windows, 
she felt sure. And it was such fun! 

She hurried after her father and they stopped only 
long enough to buy one of the cinnamon cakes for their 



A PLAYMATE 


25 


supper. And when they reached the little house on 
wheels, there was a customer! A woman carrying a 
baby in her arms. She had come to have the baby’s 
picture taken. 

Father soon had the baby sitting in the high chair 
and smiling at him. The baby’s mother told Hetty 
that her baby was six months old and had four teeth. 
He was a dear roly-poly with very little hair on the top 
of his soft round head. What there was resembled the 
fuzz on peaches. He seemed to like Hetty for he 
smiled at her with a gurgly sound and would not take 
his bright blue eyes off her. Father had her stand by 
the side of the camera. When the baby looked very 
sweet and cheerful, Father snapped the picture. He 
took three pictures in all so there would be sure to be 
one that the mother would like. 

Father insisted that Hetty was a great help in making 
the baby feel at home. He would always want her 
when he took babies’ pictures, he said. 

When the baby and his mother had gone, Hetty 
asked her father if she could lead Old Doll down tRe 
road to eat grass. The grass was especially long and 
green on either side of the road. Then, too, Hetty 
thought she might find some wild flowers. 

“Of course you may; only don’t go too far. I might 
need you,” explained Father. 

“Let’s fix up a signal. When you want me, come to 
the door and ring that little bell that you used to make 
the baby look up,” advised Hetty. 



26 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Just the thing!” agreed Father. “If I want you to 
come home right away, I’ll ring the little bell.” 

“Good-bye, don’t forget!” warned Hetty. 

Hetty went to the stable and untied Old Doll. She 
loved to be around horses; she had learned much about 
them, too. She had learned to tie and untie and even 
to harness a horse. Besides, Old Doll was quite gentle. 
She had been in the family for a long time. In the city 
it was the only way they had to get out into the country. 

Automobiles had just been invented and they were 
too expensive for any but the very wealthy to own. 
There were only a few to be seen in the city. Hetty 
wondered, as she sat by the roadside holding the long 
rein, and watching the old horse as she munched the 
lush green grass, if there were any automobiles in Fort 
Jefferson. She had seen none since leaving the city. 

As Hetty moved farther up the road she noticed some 
cows feeding on the grass along the roadside. Had they 
jumped out of the pasture field? Were they running 
away? Would they run after her? She was afraid of 
cows that she knew nothing about, but she thought 
these looked peaceful. She would wait and see. 

When she drew nearer, a large collie dog, which she 
had not seen before, darted out from among the cows, 
and with a menacing bark ran down the road after 
Hetty and her horse. The dog looked as big as a lion 
to Hetty, and she did not like the tone of his voice. 

Old Doll liked it even less, for she suddenly lifted 
her head, pricked up her ears, then started on a full gal- 



A PLAYMATE 


27 


lop down the road. Hetty held on to the rein, but in 
order to do so, had to run with all her might. She 
cried, “Whoa! Whoa!” in a frightened manner. But 
Old Doll only ran the faster. 

The dog was at the horse’s heels by this time and its 
red tongue was hanging out of its mouth, showing long 
pointed teeth. This made Hetty’s heart jump with 
terror. Besides, Hetty was sure the old horse had never 
run so fast in her whole life before. 

All at once Hetty heard a voice, quite loud and com¬ 
manding, “Shep! Shep! Come here! Come here at 
once!” 

The collie immediately stopped nipping the horse’s 
heels and obeyed instantly. Hetty was relieved for the 
moment, and she thought the dog must indeed be well 
trained to obey so quickly. When she finally managed 
to get Old Doll slowed down, and had caught her 
breath, she saw a barefoot girl in a very big sunbonnet 
approaching. 

“Did my dog frighten your horse?” she asked with 
a friendly smile. 

“I’m afraid he did,” answered Hetty, still breathing 
heavily and thinking that no doubt she was more 
frightened than the horse. But she did not say so. 

“I’m so sorry!” said the stranger. Then she turned 
to the dog, “Shep, come here and make friends with— 
what’s your name?” 

“My name’s Hetty, Hetty Burkett. What’s yours?” 
she asked shortly. 



28 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Lydia Langdon is mine/’ answered the girl. 

The dog came slowly up, but when he saw that his 
mistress was making friends, he yapped his delight, and 
seemed pleased to include Hetty in his list of friends. 

“Are you the Picture Man’s girl?” inquired Lydia. 

“Yes, I am. How did you know?” asked Hetty. 

“Just because I know everybody else around here,” 
she explained. 

“Don’t you go to school?” asked Hetty. 

“Yes, but our school’s out,” returned Lydia. 

“I didn’t know schools were ever out so early,” said 
Hetty. “Our school in the city won’t be out for a whole 
month! ” 

For a time neither spoke, then Hetty’s inquisitive¬ 
ness took the lead, “Are those your cows?” 

“Yes, they are. I herd them along the road in the 
spring, and that saves our pasture for summer,” ex¬ 
plained Lydia. 

“You’re really clever, aren’t you?” said Hetty. “Do 
you like it?” 

“Yes, I do. Only sometimes I get dreadfully lone¬ 
some with no one to talk to. Sometimes I bring a book 
and read,” said Lydia. 

“Do you like to read?” inquired Hetty, thinking of 
her own solid enjoyment in her books. 

“I’ve only a few books, and those I’ve read over and 
over. I ’most know them by heart!” she confessed. ' 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll lend you some you 
haven’t read,” volunteered Hetty, thinking of the 



A PLAYMATE 


29 


shelves of books they had brought with them in the 
little house on wheels. 

“I’ll like that a lot, and maybe you can come often 
and we can read together,” suggested Lydia. 

“I will when Father doesn’t need me,” said Hetty, 
and then she explained to Lydia about the Traveling 
Gallery and Father’s health which was the real reason 
for the little house on wheels. She told her she was 
going to learn all about making pictures so she could 
help her father more. 

“Where do you live?” asked Hetty during a lull in 
the conversation. 

“In that house across the field. There’s a lane which 
leads back from the road,” explained Lydia. 

Hetty looked in the direction Lydia indicated and 
saw in the distance a small white house and a very large 
red barn. 

“You must come over to our house some time, will 
you? Well have heaps of fun! We have a swing under 
the big Bellflower apple tree in the orchard. Do you 
like to swing?” added Lydia. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I never was in a swing in 
all my life. I’m sure I’ll like it though!” smiled Hetty. 

“Well go fishing, too. The canal is just a half mile 
from our house across the fields,” continued Lydia. 

“Won’t that be fun!” cried Hetty. 

And so they chattered on until, “Ting-a-ling! Ting- 
a-ling!” called Father’s little bell. 

“Father wants me, I must go. Good-bye, Lydia. See 



30 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


you tomorrow!” she called as she started to leave. 

“Good-bye, Hetty, don’t forget to come!” Lydia 
called back. 

Then Hetty and Old Doll trotted back to the little 
house on wheels. Father was standing in the doorway. 

“Do you know what time it is? It is nearly dinner 
time!” he announced. 

The morning hours had slipped away while she 
and Lydia had chatted. She had not thought it could 
be so late. She gave Old Doll a drink at the well and 
tied her in the stable where she could eat the fragrant 
hay which was piled high in the manger. 

“I’ve found a real playmate! ” Hetty told her father 
while she busied herself getting dinner. “She’s almost 
as nice as Mary Austor!” 

Mary Austor was the neighbor playmate and Hetty’s 
best friend when she lived in the city. 

Father’s curiosity was aroused and he asked jokingly, 
“Where? Who? How?” all in one breath. 

“What did you come for? How long are you going 
to stay? What did you bring to put it in, and when 
are you going away?” sang Hetty, laughing. She al¬ 
ways thought of that little rhyme when anyone asked 
more than one question at a time, or at least without 
waiting until the first one had been answered. But she 
proceeded to answer them methodically, “Where? 
Down the road. Who? Lydia Langdon. How? Her 
dog frightened our horse.” 

Then she told Father about the queer way she had 



A PLAYMATE 


3 i 


learned to know Lydia, and how Shep had almost 
frightened her to pieces, and how fast she had to run 
to keep up with the old horse. Father laughed at her 
recital of the escapade, and because he understood the 
call of youth for youth, he was glad that his little girl 
had found a playmate to take the place of the little 
neighbor whom Hetty adored. 






Chapter III 
ALMOST DISASTER 

The following morning, after Hetty had tidied up 
the little house, she put on her big floppy hat, selected 
two of her best-loved books and with Old Doll on the 
end of a strap, started down the road in the hope of 
finding Lydia. Father thought it a good idea for her 
to lend her new acquaintance some books to read, for 
as he said, “Books are our friends and we must not be 
selfish with them.” 

Hetty soon came in sight of the herd of cattle and 
32 




ALMOST DISASTER 


33 


sure enough, there was the pink sunbonnet! She felt 
confident that Lydia would be under its ample folds, 
but she could not be sure at that distance. 

When Shep, who had been helping guard the cows, 
caught sight of Hetty and her horse, he came bound¬ 
ing up to meet her with an attitude in decided contrast 
to yesterday’s defiant greeting. Lydia soon followed 
and was overjoyed to see the books which Hetty had 
tucked under her arm. 

“You’ve brought some books! Oh, goody!” she cried. 

“You may keep them as long as you wish,” an¬ 
nounced Hetty generously. 

“Let’s sit down on the grass and begin one this 
minute!” suggested Lydia enthusiastically. “We’ll tie 
your horse to the fence and she can eat all she wants!” 
And she proceeded to carry out her own idea. 

“That’s fine! Now which book shall it be?” asked 
Hetty. “They’re for you, you know!” And she held 
out the books for Lydia’s inspection. 

“You read the beginning of each one, and then I’ll 
choose which one we will read aloud,” she deliberated. 

“Well, then, how does this sound? ‘Coasting on all 
night by unknown and out-of-the-way shores, they 
came to the land where the Cyclops dwell, a sort of 
giant shepherds that neither sow nor plough, but—’ ” 

“There! That will do! We won’t bother to read 
the beginning of the other one,” interrupted Lydia. “I 
like giants! We’ll read this one. You read awhile and 
I’ll listen. I love to listen.” 



34 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty did not need to be coaxed; she was a good 
reader and liked nothing better than reading aloud, es¬ 
pecially if she had an appreciative listener. Lydia was 
just that, so Hetty read on and on, forgetful of every¬ 
thing but the adventurous story she was reading; she 
forgot she was to watch Old Doll as she munched 
grass at the end of the strap. 

Even Lydia was unconscious of the cows; they had 
wandered far up the road, but Shep was a good watch 
dog. He would not let them stray too far. If Hetty 
had had a dog to keep Old Doll out of mischief, all 
would have been well. But she had none. 

The old horse thought that the grass on the other 
side of the wire fence which surrounded the fields on 
this portion of the road was sweeter and juicier, and 
she decided she would like to taste it to see. So she 
kept nipping the long grass through the fence, getting 
closer and closer until she stepped right through the 
lower part of the wire with one metal-shod foot. When 
she attempted to pull it back, she was unable to do so, 
consequently she pulled and jerked, which only helped 
to tighten the wire around her. 

The commotion aroused the girls from their story, 
and when Hetty discovered the poor horse’s predica¬ 
ment her heart filled with terror. 

“Whatever shall I do?” she cried frantically, rush¬ 
ing to her charge. 

The two girls worked and pulled, but it was too 
much for them. The wires seemed only to draw them- 



ALMOST DISASTER 


35 


selves tighter around the poor beast’s foot. The old 
horse was beginning to get restless and she pawed the 
ground with her free front foot. Hetty knew some¬ 
thing must be done, and that without delay. 

“If I only had some wire pincers!” she declared. 
“I’m not sure we have any at the little house, but I’ll 
run back and see. Will you watch her ’till I get back, 
Lydia?” She flung the question over her shoulder, as 
she had already started on a run. 

“Of course I will, only hurry!” called Lydia after 
the fast disappearing form, for she was fearful of what 
the old horse might do. 

Hetty tried to appear calm as she rushed into the 
little house. Father was busy taking a picture of a bride 
and groom. Hetty thought it must be a bride, for she 
wore a long veil and stood with her hand on the 
shoulder of the man, who was seated. She knew that 
she wouldn’t dare disturb her father now, but she 
didn’t know where the pincers were, and there was 
no time to waste. She must find them at once! 

“Father, do we have some wire snippers?” She dared 
Father’s displeasure, but she would have to get them 
quickly. 

“Why, yes, I think so. What do you want with 
them, child?” he inquired calmly. He did not know 
what was going on in Hetty’s thoughts. 

“To cut a wire! I’m in a dreadful hurry!” she re¬ 
plied. “I’ll tell you about it when I come back. Lydia 
is watching Old Doll.” 



36 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Her father found the pincers for her and she skipped 
out the door with them and hurried down the road, 
leaving Father rather bewildered. 

“No doubt they are making something,” he said to 
the couple who were posing for their picture, and he 
went on with his work. He knew Hetty’s inventive 
ability; she was often planning some contrivance. 

Hetty ran as fast as she could. What if Old Doll 
should fall over? What if she should break a leg? She 
knew only too well what was done to horses that had 
broken bones. She had never quite forgotten an acci¬ 
dent that had happened in front of their apartment in 
the city more than two years before. The horse that 
pulled the delivery wagon for Mr. Shafer, their grocer, 
had fallen on the icy pavement and broken his leg, and 
the policeman had shot him. Hetty shuddered as she 
thought of it! What if she were too late? 

As she came in sight of Lydia she saw that the horse 
was still standing, but was stamping the ground with 
her two free hind feet. She had managed to get the 
other fore foot entangled, too. The wire was beginning 
to cut into the poor horse’s hide. 

“Gee, I’m glad you’ve got them!” cried Lydia, 
trembling from her long frightened suspense. “It does¬ 
n’t matter how much we cut the fence! ” 

Hetty stopped to pat Old Doll on her quivering nose, 
“You poor old dear, we’ll have you out of here in no 
time!” she said, but she was not as sure as she sounded. 
She tried to cut the wire back from the horse’s hoof to 



ALMOST DISASTER 


37 


loosen the tension, but her small hands were not fitted 
for so heavy a task. The pincers bruised her tender 
flesh, but she kept on using all her strength, cutting 
a little each time, until she succeeded in severing the 
heavy wire. 

Then Lydia helped her cut the wire in several 
places. She pulled it away as Hetty coaxed the old 
horse to let her hold her foot up. The horse seemed to 
know that the girls were trying to help her out of her 
plight; she calmed down and ceased her stamping. 

It took a great deal of work and patient maneuver¬ 
ing, but finally the girls had the old horse free of the 
wire. They heaved a sigh of relief. They were so glad 
at their success, that they flung themselves down on the 
soft grass to rest themselves. Hetty surveyed the havoc 
they had made of the fence, “What will your father say 
about it?” 

“I know he can fix it up! I’m sure he won’t mind 
when he knows that we saved your horse!” Lydia’s 
words sounded reassuring, but Hetty felt badly about 
the whole affair. She knew that it would not have 
happened if she had been more watchful of her charge. 

“I’ll bet I’ll be more careful after this! I’ll watch 
her and read too!” Hetty promised herself. Then she 
rose and whispered in the old horse s ear, Poor dear, 
I’ll put some salve on your bruised foot, too! 

After this harrowing experience, the girls were in no 
mood to continue their reading. Lydia observed that 
the sun was high up in the sky, which meant that it 



38 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


must be nearly dinner time. Hetty had not heard the 
little bell, and she did not know much about telling 
time by the sun, but a gnawing sensation in the region 
of her stomach told her that lunch time could not be 
very far away! 

‘Tm going to take the cows home,” announced 
Lydia, getting to her feet. “I’m sure it must be dinner 
time, and I have to go to the grocery in the village for 
Mother after dinner.” 

“Stop at the little house, won’t you?” begged Hetty. 
“I want Father to know you.” 

“I will if Mother will let me,” she promised, begin¬ 
ning to round up the cows and start them on their 
homeward way. Shep felt his responsibility; he ran 
hither and thither, barking at one, then another until 
they were all in a small group. 

Hetty waited long enough to pet the youngest of 
the herd, a baby calf only a few weeks old and still 
looking as if its legs were entirely too long for its 
small body. 

What do you call her, Lydia?” she asked, stroking 
her soft silky sides. The animal seemed to like it; she 
stuck her smooth slick nose right up in Hetty’s face. 

“I call her Baby Rose, because her mother’s name is 
Rose,” explained Lydia. 

“And what are the names of the other cows, or are 
they named?” questioned Hetty. 

“Yes, of course, they are all named, else how could 
we call them?” she replied. “There’s Whiteface, the 



ALMOST DISASTER 


39 


cow with the big white spot covering most of the space 
between her eyes; the one with the horn stub is Stump; 
the yellow one is Bossy. She is named right, too, be¬ 
cause she always wants to run them all. Then there 
is Baby Rose’s mother; she is the one that stays close 
to Baby Rose; Cherry is the red one or as red as a cow 
can be; Lady Jean is bringing up the rear with Sally 
and Becca; Becca has only one white foot.” 

“What a queer name for a cow!” laughed Hetty. 

“She’s named after my Aunt Rebecca; she was born 
on her birthday!” explained Lydia. “We call her 
Becca for short.” 

Hetty named them after Lydia, pointing to each one 
in turn, “Whiteface, Stump—I’d call her Stumpy- 
Bossy, Rose, Baby Rose, Lady Jean, Sally, and Becca, 
eight in all. Quite a nice family! ” 

Hetty had overcome the fear she felt when she first 
saw the cows. Now she would pat them as they came 
near her. She was still a bit afraid of Bossy, who butted 
the other cows too much to suit her. She felt that 
Bossy might give her a shove, too, if she did not be 
careful. 

As the cows started up the long lane with Shep close 
at their heels, Lydia followed them. 

Hetty led Old Doll back to the stable. She turned 
at Lydia’s “Oo-hoo!” and waved to her. 

Father was standing in the door of the little house; 
he smiled at Hetty as she went on to the well next 
door. After the horse had finished drinking, Hetty 



4 o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


tied her in the stable where the manger was full of 
sweet-smelling hay. She gave the old horse a final 
parting pat on the nose. How thankful she was that 
everything was all right. 

Father was waiting with an inquisitive look on his 
face, and while Hetty prepared the dinner, she told him 
all about the terrible accident. He insisted that they 
were very brave girls to get themselves out of trouble 
without calling for help. 

“If you hadn’t had a customer, you would have been 
called, all right, but I couldn’t interrupt a bride-and- 
groom picture, could I?” said Hetty. 





Chapter IV 
JEREMIAH 

Dinner was over and Hetty was doing the dishes 
when Lydia stopped at the little house carrying a bas¬ 
ket of eggs. 

“Come in, Lydia!” called Hetty gleefully. “Father, 
this is Lydia.” 

Father stood and looked at the little girl so unlike his 
own. Lydia’s hair was light-colored and she was as 
plump as a partridge, almost fat. Father had always 
said that Hetty jumped around too much; it made her 
thin She was like a frisky squirrel, always on the go. 

4i 






42 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Pm glad to know my little girl’s playmate,” he said. 
“Won’t you sit down?” 

“I can’t stay. I’m going to the corner grocery for 
Mother. May Hetty go with me, and then go home 
with me and stay ’till evening?” she asked. 

“I expect so, if she will promise not to get into any 
mischief!” laughed Father. 

Lydia put down her basket and wiped the dishes 
for Hetty, so they would be ready to start sooner. 

“Good-bye!” called the girls to Mr. Burkett as they 
left the house. 

“Be home before dark! ” he cautioned Hetty. 

“All right, I will,” she promised. 

The girls went on up the main street with the basket 
of eggs between them, walking carefully for fear of 
breaking them. More than once they had to stop a 
skip in its very beginning, for it might not be safe for 
the eggs to be jostled too much. They could skip on 
their way back. 

The grocery store was on the corner directly across 
from the bakery where Hetty had bought the cinna¬ 
mon cake only the day before. 

Mr. Stifel, the grocer, was a thick-set, awkward man. 
He was short in stature, a trifle bow-legged, but with a 
look in his hazel eyes that bespoke continued good 
humor. Hetty liked him at first glance and was sure 
she would come to his store whenever she needed 
groceries. 

“Hello, boys!” he addressed the girls as they set the 



JEREMIAH 


43 


basket on the counter in front of him. “What kin I do 
fer sich likely chaps?” 

Lydia was used to his banter and Hetty did not re¬ 
sent being called a boy; in fact, it had been the one 
disappointment of her life, that she was a girl, when 
she would have so much rather been a boy. 

While Lydia shopped for groceries in exchange for 
her eggs, Hetty amused herself looking at everything 
in sight. This store was quite different from the up-to- 
date grocery of Mr. Shafer, where they traded in the 
city. Along the counter the floor was piled with boxes 
and baskets half-filled with fruits and vegetables. The 
windows were hung full of advertisements, big glaring 
ones, in loud colors and huge type. The light shining 
through them made them as easily readable on the 
inside as from the street, only of course the letters were 
backwards. 

Hetty thought it was fun to figure out the words. As 
she read she noticed that most of them were about seeds. 
She wondered if ever there were vegetables that looked 
as wonderful as these pictures. She was sure she had 
never seen any! 

Hetty’s eyes wandered to a showcase at one side of 
the room, half-filled with English walnuts, and 
sprawled on the top of them was a large yellow cat. 
She supposed the cat liked the feel of the cool nuts. 
She went over and started to pet the cat, and in turn it 
started its purring. It sounded just like an engine to 
Hetty. She felt sure that the cat must like her. 



44 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“What do you call your cat, Mr. Stifel?” asked Hetty. 

“Isaiah,” he answered, watching to see what effect 
the name would have on Hetty. 

Hetty remembered that Isaiah was a name in the 
Bible so she asked, “Why do you call him Isaiah?” 

“Well, to tell you the truth, he’s a prophet!” con¬ 
fessed Mr. Stifel. 

“A prophet /” cried both girls at once. 

“Yep, he’s the best prophet you ever saw. When it’s 
goin’ to rain, he lies on the floor by the door, and 
when it’s goin’ to be a dry spell, he crawls in that 
showcase. I’ve never known it to fail!” he explained. 
“I don’t need a barometer.” 

“He’s rather a valuable cat then, isn’t he?” asked 
Hetty. 

“Yes, I reckon he would be fer some people, but we 
got more cats than we got anything else!” he replied 
with a grin. 

Lydia was now through with her trading, and the 
two girls were off down the street, swinging their bas¬ 
ket between them. In no time they had reached 
Lydia’s farm. 

Never, for a long time, had Hetty had such a won¬ 
derful afternoon. The girls raced from one thing to 
another, for Lydia was as eager to show everything 
as Hetty was to be shown. Never had she seen so 
many interesting things; the baby chickens, the tiny 
pigs, two little colts, six yellow, downy ducks, and 
what pleased Hetty more than all—ten frisky, playful 



JEREMIAH 


45 


lambs; they all came in for a share of frank admiration. 
Hetty was sure that everything on the farm had babies! 

Lydia’s mother, a kind, gentle woman, took pains 
to see that Hetty had a pleasant afternoon, and Hetty 
immediately fell in love with her. It would be nice to 
have a real mother, she thought. Girls did not appre¬ 
ciate mothers when they had them. They took them 
too much for granted. But how she would love to have 
one of her very own. 

Lydia’s father and older brother John were in the 
field getting the ground ready for the corn planting. 
Hetty went with Lydia to carry them a jug of cold 
water from the well. They walked across the soft 
ground of the plowed field. Hetty’s low shoes filled 
with the loose dirt, and she could not walk in them. 

“Take them off and carry them!” suggested Lydia 
who was barefooted as usual. 

They sat down in the middle of the plowed field 
while Hetty removed her shoes. 

“This isn’t so bad,” she said as she gingerly tried out 
her own bare feet. But when they reached the pasture 
field she was ready to put the shoes on again. “The 
sticks tickle my feet,” she explained. 

When they came back to the house Lydia introduced 
Hetty to the long rope swing under the apple tree 
in the orchard, “You get in and I’ll push you; then 
we’ll play hand car.” 

“What’s hand car?” asked Hetty excitedly as she 
settled herself in the swing holding the rope tightly. 



4 6 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“That’s when two swing at once, each standing 
facing each other,” explained Lydia as she gave Hetty 
her first shove. 

“Oo-oo-oo! What fun!” cried Hetty joyfully. “I 
think I’ll have to learn to swing sitting first, before I 
can swing standing up!” 

“Is that too high?” asked Lydia, as the swing went 
higher and higher. 

“Don’t let it go any higher ’till I get used to it,” 
begged Hetty. “I don’t want to fall out, it’s too much 
fun! ” 

Then Hetty insisted on swinging Lydia, and she 
could not seem to push her high enough. Her feet 
even touched a branch of the apple tree, but still she 
would say, “Higher, Hetty, higher!” 

Hetty thought the hand car swing heaps of fun, and 
she learned how to push herself and go as high as the 
apple tree limb that Lydia had touched. Never had 
she enjoyed anything so much! 

Lydia’s mother came to the door. “Perhaps Hetty 
would like to help you gather the eggs. You might 
hunt for stolen nests,” she suggested. 

“I’d love to!” cried Hetty, slowing up the swing by 
dragging one foot on the ground. 

“Let the old cat die! ” exclaimed Lydia. 

“What did you say about a cat?” inquired Hetty. 

“That’s just an old saying; it means let the swing 
gradually come to a stop of its own accord. Don’t stop 
it,” explained Lydia. 



JEREMIAH 


47 


“Well, I’m about dead—or I mean the cat is!” 
laughed Hetty as the swing came to a full stop. 

Lydia went into the house for a basket, and the two 
girls raced to the barn. 

The girls gathered all of the eggs in their accustomed 
places, which almost filled the large wicker basket. 
Then they set out to discover some new nests. 

Sometimes the hens would make a nest away off 
somewhere in the hay and lay their eggs. If the nest 
was not found for a long time, the hen would sit on the 
eggs and hatch baby chicks. The old hen would not 
wait until all of the eggs were hatched, but would leave 
her nest as soon as some of the chicks were able to 
wiggle. The rest of the eggs would not hatch for they 
would be chilled. 

Lydia’s father had a standing offer of a penny for 
each stolen nest she found. She explained this to Hetty 
and they doubled their efforts. 

They climbed up into the haymow and crawled all 
over the hay in the loft looking for anything that might 
turn out to be an opening to a nest. 

Hetty found a hole in the hay no bigger around than 
her head, and so far back in the hay that she could not 
see the end of it. She reached back as far as she could. 
Then she touched something warm that made her 
jump! 

“Lydia, come here quick; there s an animal or some¬ 
thing back in this hole! What can it be?” she cried. 

“Where is it?” asked Lydia as she came near. 



4 8 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Back in this hole. I can barely touch it. It felt like 
fur. Maybe it’s a bear! ” laughed Hetty. 

“It might be a skunk!” said Lydia. “I’ll go easy!” 

“What’s a skunk?” asked Hetty. 

“Well, it’s an animal that sprays perfume that you 
don’t like,” laughed Lydia. “Some people call them 
polecats.” She stuck her hand in the hole. “I don’t 
feel anything but hay! ” she added. 

“Stick your head part way in; you can reach farther 
that way,” instructed Hetty, standing back with an 
expectant look. 

Lydia did as she was told and this time she felt 
something soft and warm. It did not move but Lydia 
jumped back. “I’ll get a pole! ” she said as she hurried 
down the ladder to find one. She was back in a jiffy 
with a hayfork. She used the handle to stick back in 
the hole. What was their surprise when the old pussy 
cat came leisurely out of the hole! 

“It was a cat, all right, even if it wasn’t a polecat!” 
laughed Hetty as she jumped around on the hay. 

“I’ll bet she has her babies in that hole,” said Lydia. 
“Mother wouldn’t let her have them in the kitchen; 
then she took them away and I never could find what 
had become of them. I’m going to pull some of the hay 
away so I can reach in farther.” 

The girls pulled some of the hay from in front of the 
hole; then Lydia reached in as far as she could. When 
she pulled out her hand she was holding a black and 
white kitten. 



JEREMIAH 


49 


“Oh, isn’t it cute!” cried Hetty excitedly. “How 
many are there?” 

Lydia kept handing them out until there were four 
cunning baby kittens on the hay in front of the hole. 
The mother cat stood by watching the procedure. She 
knew Lydia would not hurt her babies. 

“How they have grown!” said Lydia as she petted 
each one in turn. “They couldn’t see when the old cat 
ran off with them. Now their eyes are as bright as 
dollars.” 

“They’re almost as big as their mother,” laughed 
Hetty. 

“You know I think their mother was pretty smart. 
She’s kept them hidden so we wouldn’t chase them 
away again,” declared Lydia. 

Hetty was so excited over the kittens that she could 
not keep her hands off them. She tried to decide 
which one was the prettiest, but it was no use. They 
were all beautiful to her. One was black, one was 
black-and-white spotted, one was tiger-striped, and one 
was maltese. Four lovely kittens! 

“I’d love to have one of the babies!” murmured 
Hetty as she cuddled them by turns in her arm. 

“I’m sure you may have one, or two if you like! 
said Lydia generously. 

“Are you sure that your mother won’t care?” asked 
Hetty. 

“Yes, I’m sure she won’t care! She 11 be only too 
glad to be rid of them, for we have two old cats. 



5° 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Mother was glad when they disappeared. They’ve been 
gone a long time,” explained Lydia. 

“Which one may I have?” inquired Hetty. 

“Take your choice,” insisted Lydia. 

“I think I’ll take the tiger-striped one,” announced 
Hetty after much deliberation. “It makes me think 
of the circus.” 

“What will you name it?” asked Lydia. 

“I believe I’ll name him after a prophet like Mr. 
Stifel’s,” laughed Hetty. “Do you know any names of 
prophets?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t think of any now. We’ll ask 
Mother,” declared Lydia. 

The girls had lost interest in hunting for stolen nests 
and decided to go back to the house and tell Mother 
about the lost kittens, or rather the found kittens, for 
they weren’t lost kittens any more. 

“I’m glad we found the kittens!” cried Hetty joy¬ 
fully. “We were hunting for hens’ nests and found 
a cat’s nest!” 

Slowly the two girls walked back to the house. Hetty 
cradled the kitten in one arm and helped Lydia carry 
the heavy basket of eggs with the other. 

“Mother, we found the lost kittens!” announced 
Lydia. 

Mrs. Langdon held the screen door open wide for 
the girls to come in with their burden. “Where did you 
find them?” she asked, not as excited as Hetty thought 
she should be. 



JEREMIAH 


5i 


Then the girls told her about the hole in the hay. 

“Hetty wants one of them, Mother,” said Lydia. 
“You don’t care, do you?” 

“Certainly not. She is entirely welcome to as many 
of them as she wants! ” replied Mrs. Langdon laughing. 

“And do you know any prophet names?” asked 
Lydia. And when her mother looked rather bewil¬ 
dered she explained, “Hetty wants to name her kitten 
after a prophet like Mr. Stifel’s!” 

“And we couldn’t think of any,” put in Hetty. 

“Well, there’s Elijah, Isaiah—” 

“Mr. Stifel’s cat is named Isaiah!” interrupted Hetty. 

“Jeremiah, Ezekiel—” continued Mrs. Langdon. 

“Jeremiah! That’s it! I’ll call him Jeremiah!” cried 
Hetty jubilantly. “And maybe he’ll be a prophet like 
Mr. Stifel’s Isaiah!” 

Hetty was so happy that the afternoon passed long 
before she was ready to leave. Lydia’s mother insisted 
on her staying for supper, but Hetty thought it would 
not be quite fair to allow her father to get his own meal. 

As she came in sight of the little house on wheels, 
she thought how nice it would be if they could have 
a lovely garden like the Langdon’s, and a yard and 
flowers, too, and a barn! She added that last word as 
she thought of her new pet. Jeremiah ought to have 
a barn to play in. She wondered how long Father 
would be staying in Fort Jefferson. She wouldn’t want 
to leave soon, now that she had found such a lovely 
playmate. 




Chapter V 

HETTY HELPS WITH THE PICTURES 

The spring days flew fast, each one filled with ex¬ 
citing good times for Hetty. Many days were spent 
exploring the little town, sometimes with Lydia, and 
sometimes with only Jeremiah who had replaced Deb¬ 
orah—Hetty’s only doll—in her affections. 

At first Father had showed his displeasure when 
Hetty presented her newly acquired pet. “What will 
you do with it? We have so little room in our little 
house!” But his heart softened when Hetty replied, 
52 



HETTY HELPS WITH THE PICTURES 


53 


“I’ll take all the care of him, honestly I will, Father!” 

The Burketts had been in Fort Jefferson less than 
two weeks, but Father had taken so many pictures that 
he had allowed Hetty to help with the finishing. He 
had taught her how to make paste for the mounting. It 
must be as soft and smooth as strained honey. She 
would stir and stir until there was not a suggestion of 
a lump in it. Father declared she made finer paste than 
he did. 

He taught her to help mount the prints on the cards 
and to rub them down smoothly. He had even allowed 
her to use the burnisher, which was to give the pic¬ 
tures a gloss, but she had not been very successful with 
it. 

The burnisher had two rollers which were heated by 
a small alcohol lamp. The pictures were run through 
between the hot steel rollers. It had to be done quickly. 
Hetty had scorched one of the prints, because she could 
not get it through the rollers fast enough. 

Father had not scolded her. He said only that she 
would need to wait until she had grown taller to use 
the burnisher. She had had to stand on tiptoe to use 
it. That was one of the reasons for the scorching, she 
felt sure. 

Father insisted that he could not have finished all of 
the pictures on time, if she had not helped him. Every¬ 
one wanted his pictures as soon as possible. People 
could not wait to see how they looked. 

Hetty took great delight in working with the pic- 



54 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


tures. It didn’t seem like work at all. There were so 
many surprises for her. It was fun to time the prints, 
then to take them off and put them in a dark box quick¬ 
ly; for they would be ruined if they were exposed to the 
light even for a second. 

Sometimes they printed by sunlight and sometimes 
by lamplight. Hetty liked to print by sunlight best, for 
the petrol odor of the printing lamp made her feel 
queer. 

Of course she liked to wash the prints; then she could 
turn them over in the water and look at them. Always 
she would be surprised. All sorts of people had had 
their pictures taken in the Traveling Gallery. There 
were groups of children dressed all in white with long 
veils, children who had taken their first communion. 

Then there were newly married couples, although 
they were in the minority. Hetty could not understand 
why the husband would remain sitting and allow his 
bride to stand in the picture, but that seemed to be the 
way they wanted it done. 

The babies’ pictures interested her most, for she had 
helped with the taking of them, with the exception of 
one that Father had taken while she was spending the 
afternoon with Lydia. So many cunning babies, and just 
as many proud mothers. The fathers seldom came with 
them. Hetty supposed they had to stay home and work 
in the fields, or whatever it was that they did. 

One morning Mr. Burkett and Hetty were busy at 
their pictures when a tall, red-faced man, who said his 



HETTY HELPS WITH THE PICTURES 


55 


name was John Davis, stopped at the little house to ask 
Father if he would come out in the country and take a 
family group picture. 

He said that his father and mother were celebrating 
their golden wedding anniversary and they wanted a 
picture of all of the children and their families. He told 
Father he would come for him during the noon hour, 
then they could eat dinner with them. The little black¬ 
haired girl was to come too, he said. 

When the man had gone Hetty asked, “What’s a 
golden wedding, Father?” 

“It means they have been married for fifty years,” 
explained Father. “They are celebrating the day by hav¬ 
ing all their children and grandchildren home to spend 
the day with them. At noon they will have a big din- 
ner. 

“May I take Jeremiah?” asked Hetty hopefully. 

“I’m afraid you’d better not,” answered her father. 

“He’ll get so lonesome here by himself!” pleaded 
Hetty. 

“Well, take him along then, but mind that he doesn’t 
get into any mischief!” warned Father. 

Hetty was so pleased she hardly knew how to express 
herself. She was as excited about going to the country 
as a mother hen is with her first baby chicks. She flut¬ 
tered around the little house, hopping first on one foot, 
then on the other, until Father declared she would wear 
out her shoes. 

She had not yet learned to go barefooted. The rough 



56 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


stones and sharp sticks bruised her tender feet. She 
laughed when Father said she would wear out her 
shoes. ‘Til go barefoot then, as Lydia does!” she said. 

At last Mr. Davis drove up to the little house. His 
horse, a beautiful bay, held his head up very high. Het¬ 
ty thought it must indeed be uncomfortable to the 
horse to have to hold its head up high in the air. Hetty 
felt that she would like to loosen the rein a bit. Old 
Doll was always reined moderately. Father said she 
could pull easier that way. Hetty felt sorry for the 
horse; it made her head hurt to watch him. 

The carriage, too, was splendid, either quite new or 
with a shiny new coat of paint, for it glistened in the 
sun. 

Hetty climbed in with Jeremiah and settled herself on 
the back seat with the kitten cuddled on her lap, while 
Father stowed the camera and tripod on the seat beside 
her. Then he sat with the driver. 

Mr. Davis spoke to the horse and it started at a lively 
trot. It reminded Hetty of the race horses she had 
seen at the fair. It had long legs and a slender body, 
and moved along so gracefully that Hetty felt sure it 
could go as fast as a racer. 

The men talked as they rode. Their conversation 
drifted back to Hetty and she listened intently. They 
were discussing the country, the weather, the crops, and 
many things that Hetty wanted to know about. 

Each day she realized more and more that she knew 
less and less about the country. Lydia had helped her 



HETTY HELPS WITH THE PICTURES 


57 


a great deal by explaining things to her, and Hetty in 
turn had told Lydia many things about the city which 
she did not know. 

The ride was entirely too short to suit Hetty who 
was enjoying every minute of it, although she had not 
spoken a word since the carriage started. Jeremiah too, 
must have received a certain amount of pleasure from 
the ride, for he had been purring at top speed since the 
ride began. 

They drew up before a neat-looking farmhouse, all 
shiny white with green shutters at every window. The 
barn and outbuildings were as red as the tulips that 
grew in a diamond-shaped bed near the house. 

Hetty thought this the dearest house she had ever 
seen. How she would like to have even a cottage like 
that for her very own, with flowers in the yard, and a 
garden. That was one thing that they lacked in the 
little house on wheels, no flowers and no garden. For, 
of course, they couldn’t take a yard and garden with 
them wherever they went. 

The dinner had been placed on a long table out in 
the yard under the shade of an old oak tree. Benches 
lined each side of the table and chairs the ends. The 
table was full of an abundance of food of all kinds. 
Hetty had never seen so much food in one place before. 
Surely they could never eat as much as that! 

Father informed Mr. Davis that he thought it would 
be best to take the picture before eating. He laughed, 
“I think the family will look pleasanter! ” 



58 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


They all agreed, and Father proceeded to line them 
up according to their size, so as to get them all in a 
small group, or in as small a space as possible; men 
and women in the back row, the larger children in the 
row in front of them, and the small children in the 
front row. Grandfather and Grandmother Davis sat on 
chairs in front of the group. Grandfather held Billy, 
the only great-grandson, on his knee, but he wriggled 
worse than a fishworm about to be baited. He clapped 
his hands and squirmed to be let down. Grandfather 
was holding on to him with both hands, but he was 
having a sorry time of it. 

Father put the black cloth over his head and focussed 
the camera; then he moved some of the children closer 
together. He looked in again to be sure everything 
was just right. He put the cloth over Hetty’s head and 
allowed her to look in the camera at the picture. 
“They’re standing on their heads!” she cried delight¬ 
edly. 

Father was watching Billy. He knew that he would 
spoil the picture if he continued his restlessness. 

“Hetty,” said Father, “see if you can keep Billy quiet 
while I snap the picture.” 

Hetty, with Jeremiah in her arms, stood nearer Billy 
and smiled at him. 

“Kitty, kitty,” cried Billy, wriggling more than ever 
and trying to free himself so that he might get the 
precious kitten. 

Then Hetty put Jeremiah into Billy’s outstretched 



HETTY HELPS WITH THE PICTURES 


59 


hands and showed him how to hold the kitten without 
hurting it. 

“That’s fine, Hetty. Back up!” cried Father, waving 
wildly, for Billy had become so absorbed in watching 
the kitten that he forgot to wiggle. 

Hetty stepped out of range of the camera. Then 
Father took off the little black cap in front of the 
camera for just a second. He turned the plateholder 
over quickly and snapped another picture. He took two 
more so he would be sure of having one that would 
be fine. 

“All over!” he called as he snapped the little cap in 
place again. 

“Now for dinner!” called Grandfather Davis. “Ev¬ 
eryone sit down, there’s a place for all of you.” 

And the family was not slow to follow the old gen¬ 
tleman’s instructions. 

A man with a long-tailed coat, who Hetty thought 
was the preacher, stood up and in a deep voice thanked 
God for the food set before them. Then the meal began. 

There was a special place at the table for Mr. Burkett 
and Hetty, and they might have been a king and a 
princess, for the royal manner in which they were 
served. 

Hetty had her eyes on Billy during the meal, and she 
could hardly wait until it was finished to play with him. 
She hoped he had sat still in the picture. She felt sure 
Jeremiah had. 

What a lively little fellow Billy was! He was just 



6o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


learning to walk, and could say a few easy words. He 
smiled openly at Hetty. There were other boys and 
girls of all ages and sizes, but they stared at her with 
unfamiliar faces. 

Billy made friends with her at once. Hetty walked 
around the yard with his hand held tightly in her own. 
He did very well walking as long as she held his hand, 
but toppled over when she let go of him to get a better 
hold of Jeremiah. She was afraid to let the cat down; 
she thought he might run off to the barn and she would 
have trouble finding him. Billy laughed as he rolled 
over in the soft grass. He thought it heaps of fun and 
gurgled his delight. 

Hetty was having such a lovely time with Billy that 
she was sorry when Father said they must start back 
to the little house. 

Mr. Davis drove them back in the same shiny car¬ 
riage with the same spirited horse, and again Hetty 
was sorry when the drive was ended. 






Chapter VI 

IN CHURCH WITH LYDIA 

The following day was Sunday. Hetty was to go 
with Lydia to Sunday School in the beautiful church 
with the high-reaching spire. She tidied up the little 
house with lightning-like speed, shut Jeremiah up in 
his little box with the slats on top. She put on her one 
best dress, a blue one just the color of her azure eyes. 

She and Father had always had a joke about the 
dress-up dress. When she would ask him jokingly, 
“What dress shall I wear today?” he would reply very 
soberly, “Wear your new one, or your blue one, or the 
one you look the best in!” 

Of course it was one and the same dress, but they 
would pretend that she had an elaborate wardrobe. 

61 





62 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


This morning Father had answered as usual, so Hetty 
said, “I’ll wear my blue one today!” 

The white moire sash that went with the blue dress 
was quite long and Hetty had difficulty making a pre¬ 
sentable bow. Either the bow ends were too long, or 
when she would even up the bow ends, the other ends 
were too long. At last she gave up in despair. “Please, 
Father, will you tie my sash?” she asked. “I can’t seem 
to make it come out even.” 

Hetty gave her shoes a final brushing just as Lydia’s 
“Oo-hoo!” sounded at the door of the little house. 

“Come in, Lydia,” she called. “I’ll be ready in a 
jiffy!” 

“How nice you look!” approved Lydia, as she sur¬ 
veyed Hetty’s big bow sash. Her own was neither as 
large nor as crisp-looking. 

“What shall I take for the collection?” inquired 
Hetty. 

“Only a penny for Sunday School,” she replied, “for 
church as much as you like.” 

Father had said that he would come later to the 
church service and walk home with the girls. He had 
an appointment to take a picture before church. Father 
did not like to take pictures on Sunday. Work done on 
that day rarely turned out well. Something nearly 
always happened to it, or to him while he was doing it. 
But Father felt that he must try to accommodate the 
public and he took pictures by appointment on Sunday. 

The bell was ringing loud and full as the two girls, 



IN CHURCH WITH LYDIA 


63 


looking very fine in their Sunday clothes, neared the 
church. 

The church, which was the only one in Fort Jeffer¬ 
son, was situated on a large plot back of the main 
street, almost a block from Mr. Stifel’s grocery. It was 
not on a street at all, but it had smooth white sidewalks 
the whole length of the church lot, with wide steps 
leading up to the beautiful double-door entrance. 

The church steeple was tall and imposing in the 
early morning sunlight. Hetty thought it looked even 
grander than any that she remembered in the city. It 
stood out by itself and seemed so alone. 

There were many horses tied to the long hitching 
racks on the sides and rear of the churchyard, with 
many different kinds of vehicles attached to them, bug¬ 
gies, carriages, and spring-wagons. 

Some of them were old and quite dilapidated, and 
many of them were shiny new. Their owners were 
filing up the long steps to the church doors. Groups 
of children were seen coming in different directions. 

Inside of the doors was a long corridor, and there 
were other doors leading to the different divisions of 
the church. Lydia led the way through the doors on 
down the stairs on the inside to the Sunday School 
rooms below. Hetty followed and sat down beside her. 

Nearly all of the long pews were filled, with here 
and there a vacancy where a boy sat next to a girl. 
Hetty had not expected to see such a crowd in the 
church. Surely there were not that many people in all 



6 4 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Fort Jefferson. But when she stopped to think she sup¬ 
posed they came from the country round about. This 
was truly a church-going community. 

Father had said it was a beautiful church, but Hetty 
was not prepared for the grandeur of the interior. Its 
beauty filled her with a quiet sense of peace and well 
being. 

After the opening exercises, Hetty followed Lydia 
into a small room curtained off from a much larger 
one. There the teacher, a sweet-faced, middle-aged 
woman, taught the lesson. 

Deborah! Hetty had seen the name in the Bible and 
had named her doll for her, but there were so many 
big names in the Book of Judges that she had not been 
able to get the whole story of Deborah quite clear. The 
teacher made it plain and equally interesting. 

What a character Deborah was! The mouthpiece of 
God! She was both loyal and courageous. Hetty felt 
that she would like to grow up to be as brave and help¬ 
ful as Deborah. 

The instructive lesson was over much too soon to 
suit Hetty. Just then the chimes sounded, which Lydia 
told her was the signal for the church service. 

The big organ was playing so softly that Hetty 
thought she had never heard any music half so sweet. 
She listened to the choir and wished they might go on 
singing forever; it made her feel so cool and restful. 
The sermon did not interest her, but she spent the time 
looking at the lovely art glass windows. 



IN CHURCH WITH LYDIA 


65 


Hetty’s eyes wandered about the church. They 
caught a glimpse of the form of her father several rows 
in front of her. 

At the close of the service, Father met the girls in 
the corridor. The congregation was busy greeting each 
other. Father had to stop many times to shake hands 
with some of them. Many of them had remembered 
him years before when he had been a teacher in their 
village. Some had to inform Father who they were, 
as many of them were so small when he knew them. 

The pastor, who had changed his gown for a more 
informal coat, shook hands warmly with both Hetty 
and her father and seemed pleased to see them. Hetty 
thought it was splendid of the people to be so friendly 
and interested in them. How different it had been at 
their church in the city. There people hurried out after 
the service. 

Here the people lingered and talked about the crops, 
or the weather, or the people who had not been able 
to come to the service. Even those who had never 
known the Burketts stopped for a friendly word of 
greeting. Hetty felt somehow that she had always be¬ 
longed here. 

As Father and the girls walked on their way back 
to the little house, they talked of the people of the 
village. Father asked Lydia many questions about 
them. Lydia was to stay to dinner with them as her 
family was spending the day with a sick aunt several 
miles away. 



66 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty found two aprons, one for Lydia and one for 
herself. While Lydia set the table, Hetty lit the stove 
and put the potatoes on to boil. She had peeled them in 
the morning and put them in cold water. 

While the potatoes boiled she fried the fresh beef¬ 
steak she had bought at Mr. StifePs store. She used the 
meat fryings to make some good rich gravy. 

Father liked her gravy. He said she could make bet¬ 
ter gravy than a chef at a hotel. She would mash the 
potatoes, too. Father liked them better that way. 

The meal was ready in record time, or so it seemed 
to Father, who had been watching the two lively girls 
as they busded around the little house. He brought a 
bucket of water from the well and the meal began. 

Hetty watched Father closely. He was not eating as 
he should. He seemed not in the least hungry, while 
Hetty and Lydia were almost starved. They ate like a 
couple of woodchoppers. 

Hetty thought she would insist on Father going to 
the doctor here in Fort Jefferson. She had seen a sign 
on Main Street which read M. A. PEEBLES, GEN¬ 
ERAL PRACTITIONER. 

“What does it mean?” she had asked Lydia. 

“It means ‘doctor,’ ” replied Lydia. 

“Why doesn’t it say ‘doctor’ then?” retorted Hetty. 

“Perhaps it sounds bigger that way!” laughed Lydia. 

Hetty made up her mind before the meal was over 
that she would try to get Father to go to the doctor 
before the day was finished. 



IN CHURCH WITH LYDIA 


67 


After the dinner the girls washed the dishes and 
made the little house neat and clean. Then Jeremiah 
came in for his share of the meal. Hetty had learned 
to keep him shut up in his box while they were eating, 
for once he had jumped right upon the table and landed 
in a dish of custard. 

Father had said then that she would have to keep 
him off the table or give him away. Father was not 
very fond of the kitten and only put up with it for 
Hetty’s sake. She was quite careful of Jeremiah after 
that. 

She had asked Mr. Stifel, the grocer, for a box. He 
had given her a nice, smooth pine box that had been 
filled with oranges and still retained the sweet pungent 
odor of the Florida fruit. Hetty had put an old worn 
sweater of Father’s in the bottom of the box and nailed 
slats on the top to keep him in. She took him out for 
feeding and for his morning airing. 

Now the girls took Jeremiah out of his cozy home 
and watched him as he lapped up the rich, creamy 
milk . Then they spent the greater part of the after¬ 
noon playing with him. They dressed him up in Deb¬ 
orah’s clothes and played house with the kitten as the 
child. 

Jeremiah was not fond of this, for it interfered with 
his walking. The clothes would get in the way and 
over he would roll. Hetty said he acted like a baby 
learning to walk. The rest of the afternoon was spent 
looking at the finished pictures of the day before. 



68 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Lydia thought it was fun to see the pictures of peo¬ 
ple she knew, before they themselves saw them. 

Hetty walked a little way with Lydia on her way 
home that evening. She had to be home in time to help 
with the milking. On the way Hetty confided to Lydia 
her fears about her father, as they walked quite slowly 
to the very end of the long lane. 

“Don’t worry! I’m sure everything will be all 
right!” consoled Lydia as Hetty started back to the 
little house. 

Father met her down the road, and before, she had 
time to tell him she wanted him to go to see the doctor, 
he said, “I’m not feeling so well today. I think I’ll stop 
at Dr. Peebles’ and have him look me over.” 

And when Hetty stared in amazement, he added, 
“Do you want to go with me?” 

“Of course I do,” she replied. She had not thought 
it would be that easy. 

So, while Father consulted Dr. Peebles in his private 
office, Hetty sat in an old rocker in the dusty outer 
room of the doctor’s suite. She wondered if he didn’t 
have anyone to keep his rooms clean. 

How she would like to tidy up a bit. She had a no¬ 
tion to do some “handkerchief dusting,” but just then 
the words of the doctor came to her quite clearly, “Do 
you know anything about trucking?” 

She heard her father reply, “I should, I was brought 
up on a farm!” 

“What you ought to do, is to get yourself a small 



IN CHURCH WITH LYDIA 


69 


place, say a couple of acres, raise some chickens and 
vegetables, keep a cow or two, and drink lots of milk. 
Keep out of doors as much as you can. That, I think, 
would be the solution of everything. But I won’t an¬ 
swer for the results, if you don’t!” The doctor’s words 
seemed to get louder as he talked. 

“I don’t see just how I will be able to do it!” con¬ 
fessed Father. “Nearly all I have is tied up in my pic¬ 
ture business!” 

“But I’m sure you could rent some place, at least un¬ 
til you are able to go on with the pictures,” argued the 
doctor. 

As the doctor became less insistent, Hetty could not 
distinguish the words. It was only a subdued murmur, 
but Hetty had heard enough to confirm her fears. 

Quietly they walked back to the little house on 
wheels. Hetty did not talk for fear of bubbling over 
with tears and Father was busy with his thoughts. 






Chapter VII 

SHEP SAVES THE DAY 

Monday was a busy day in the little studio on wheels. 
There were several pictures taken and much finishing 
to be done. Hetty had little time to worry about her 
father’s health. She wished she could do more of the 
work, although he insisted that she was doing too much 
now. 

After the busy spurt of Monday, there was not much 
to do the remainder of the week, so Hetty and Lydia 
planned to go fishing on Thursday. Father urged them 
70 






SHEP SAVES THE DAY 


7i 


to go. He said he would not need Hetty then. He 
would like to go too, he said, only he would need to 
stay at the studio to take care of a possible customer. 

He helped them dig for fishworms in the back of the 
lot. It had rained in the night and worms were not 
hard to find. Big fat ones wriggled out of the soft 
earth that Father turned over with the shovel he had 
borrowed next door. 

Lydia vied with Hetty to see who could pick up the 
most worms and deposit the squirming creatures in an 
old tin can half-filled with moist earth. Hetty was so 
anxious to drop hers that she usually missed the can. 
She did not like the feel of the clammy cold angle- 
worms. 

Father had helped them get their fishing tackle in 
shape, too. Lydia had two long bamboo poles that 
they would get when they stopped for the lunch that 
her mother had prepared for them. 

“Remember, I’ll expect fish for supper!” laughed 
Father. 

“We’ll try to have some!” answered the girls in uni¬ 
son, as they swung off down the road. It was only a 
short way from Lydia’s home across the field to the 
canal where they were going to try their luck at fishing. 

Shep came bounding up to meet them as if to say, 
“I’m going fishing with you, so don’t try to stop me!’ 

They collected the poles and the lunch basket, and 
were soon ready to start. 

“Mother, shut Shep in his kennel, so he doesn’t fol- 



72 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


low us!” Lydia called back when Shep started to go 
with them. 

Mother was standing at the kitchen door. “Why 
don’t you want him to go with you?” she asked. 

“He’ll bark and scare all the fish! ” pouted Lydia. 

“I don’t think he will, Lydia. I’ll feel safer if you 
take him with you,” assured her mother. 

“Let him go along, Lydia,” coaxed Hetty, who had 
begun to be quite fond of the beautiful collie. 

“Oh, well, all right, but the first bark and home you 
go,” warned Lydia. 

Shep sensed that he was to be allowed to go with 
the girls, so he bounded on, keeping several yards ahead 
of them. He would stop until the girls had almost 
caught up with him, and then he would race off over 
the field as much as to say, “Don’t you wish you could 
travel like that?” 

Soon they were at the canal, which spread out be¬ 
fore them like a blue ribbon, curving pleasantly into 
the distance. Willow trees grew along either side, af¬ 
fording a shady spot for any chance angler, and a refuge 
for the wild birds that were at that very moment filling 
the air with their sweetest melodies. Hetty had to 
stand still and enjoy their music for a while. 

Lydia was the first to have her hook baited and 
thrown into the water. She offered to help Hetty put 
the wriggling earthworm on her hook, but Hetty ar¬ 
gued that she would have to learn sometime. 

“If it weren’t so slippery!” she cried. 



SHEP SAVES THE DAY 


73 


“Slap it between your hands!” directed Lydia. “They 
don’t squirm quite so much then.” 

Hetty obeyed. She agreed that it did help the wrig¬ 
gling, but the worm was just as slick and slimy as ever. 

Lydia gave a jerk. Something was on the end of her 
line. In her haste to get her line out of the water she 
had thrown it some distance back of them. When she 
investigated she found she had caught a crawfish. 

“Just an old crawdad!” she cried disgustedly. “But 
I’ll fix him, I’ll use him for bait.” 

“How can you do that?” inquired Hetty, amazed at 
Lydia’s knowledge of angling. 

“Use his tail. It makes excellent bait for catfish,” she 
explained, as she quickly tore off the tail and skillfully 
put it on her empty hook. “Now watch me catch one!” 

Hetty’s cork began bobbing around, but she jerked 
too soon and lost the fish, or whatever it was that had 
been nibbling at her bait. She threw in again, as far 
out as her line would permit. The circular ripples that 
the cork made widened out gradually until the water 
was perfectly still. Some feathery snake-feeders flew 
just over the surface of the water, often alighting on 
either Lydia’s or Hetty’s cork, which made them bob 
ever so little. 

Shep had not so much as suggested a bark. He had 
disappeared when they reached the water and seemed 
to know that he was not needed to help with the fishing. 

Everything was quiet! For the moment the birds 
had stopped their warbling. The wind was still, so still 



74 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


that not a leaf moved in its place. Hetty felt the quiet 
steal through her. How she loved it all! 

After a long time of patient waiting, or what seemed 
a long time to Lydia, who had her mind set on catching 
some fish for Mr. Burkett’s supper, she pulled out a 
fish which seemed to her to be a big one, although it 
barely exceeded the minimum size for catfish. 

Hetty became excited. “If I can only catch one!” she 
cried. 

All at once her cork bobbed up and down and then 
disappeared under the water. Lydia had seen it, too. 
“Pull, Hetty, pull! You have a bite! ” she cried. 

Hetty gave a jerk and there on the line dangling in 
mid-air was a small snapper turtle. 

“That’s a queer fish! ” laughed Hetty as she tried to 
unfasten the turtle from the line. “I can’t even get him 
off the hook. I think he’s swallowed it.” 

Lydia came to the rescue and together they succeeded 
in pulling the hook out of the turtle’s mouth. 

“I’ll bet that hurts the poor thing. I wish I hadn’t 
caught him. He’s bleeding, too,” moaned Hetty. 

“If he were larger, we’d make soup out of him, but 
he’s much too small for that. I think we might as well 
throw him back into the water. He’ll be all right in no 
time,” consoled Lydia. 

Let’s do!” urged Hetty, and she proceeded to fling 
the unsuspecting turtle in the middle of the quiet 
stream. He disappeared from sight as a little black 
wriggling form. 




“Hetty, pull! Your cor\ went under!” 



















7 6 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


A dinner bell ringing in the distance brought the girls 
to a realization of their hunger. They had been too 
busy to think about food. 

They spread the little white cloth on the ground in 
the shade of one of the big willow trees that lined the 
canal and placed the lunch on its snowy fold. 

Shep, who had been lying under the willows asleep, 
seemed to smell the food, for he got up and stretched 
himself, and came over to the girls as if to say, “You 
won’t forget me, will you?” 

Hetty thought she had never tasted anything so de¬ 
licious as the chicken sandwiches Mrs. Langdon had 
included in their lunch. Shep liked them, too, for the 
girls shared them with him. He sat watching every 
bite that the girls took, hoping for another for himself. 
He sat looking so longingly at them that Lydia gave 
him the second sandwich, for as she said, “He’s been 
extra good, and he must have extra food! ” 

And they both laughed and continued to feed him 
until the entire lunch had disappeared. Shep appeared 
to be satisfied. He walked off again to his former retreat 
under the willows. 

“That’s what I like about a picnic, there are no 
dishes to wash! ” Lydia announced triumphantly as the 
two girls cleared away the remains of the lunch. 

“I never had a picnic before, but I like everything 
about them—that is, if they are all like this one,” said 
Hetty. 

Soon the girls were back at their fishing. Hetty sat 



SHEP SAVES THE DAY 


77 


on the bank patiently waiting for a nibble. She hoped 
she could catch a fish, too. She had never caught a fish 
in her whole life. She was beginning to think it was 
hopeless. Her eyes hurt when she watched the cork so 
constantly. 

The sun shining on the water made it worse. The 
water acted as a mirror, reflecting the rays of the sun 
directly in her eyes. They began to water and she could 
hardly see the cork. She looked away into the green 
woods across the canal to rest her eyes. All at once 
something jerked on her pole. It almost fell out of her 
hands. 

Lydia, who had been watching the corks, cried, 
“Hetty, pull! Your cork went under! ” 

Hardly knowing what she was doing, she pulled with 
all her might, and sure enough, there on the end of her 
line was a beautiful crappie. She could hardly believe 
her eyes! It had all happened so quickly. She had 
pulled with such force that the line with the fish dan¬ 
gling on the end, caught on the limb of a tree near them. 

“What a beauty! What a beauty!” exclaimed Lydia 
excitedly, dropping her own pole to help Hetty with 
her first catch. 

“And to think I caught it!” cried Hetty who was still 
numb with the thrill of it. I love to fish! 

The girls succeeded in untangling the line from the 
branch of the tree. Hetty was afraid to take the fish off 
the hook, although Lydia showed her how. 

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt it!” she explained. 



7 8 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Lydia took the crappie off the hook and put it on the 
stringer with her own fish. It made her fish look like 
a baby. She laughed at the comparison, “I’m afraid your 
fish will eat my fish up! ” But it was only a few minutes 
until Lydia caught one equally as large as Hetty’s, and 
the fun began in earnest. 

It seemed that the girls took turns pulling out fish. It 
kept them busy baiting the hooks for a while. As fast 
as they could throw in they would have a bite; and then 
all at once the biting stopped, and they could not get 
even a nibble. 

“There must have been a school of fish swimming by,” 
said Lydia. “They’ve stopped biting now.” 

“Can we wait until school opens again?” laughed 
Hetty. 

Although they sat and waited patiently for another 
half hour, neither of the girls got so much as a nibble at 
their bait. They were beginning to be tired, for it isn’t 
any fun fishing without a bite. They decided that they 
had enough fish for one time anyway. 

Lydia insisted on giving Hetty all of them. “They’ll 
make a good supper for you and your father, but they 
wouldn’t be a taste for all of us. We have fish often 
anyway.” 

Hetty accepted them gladly, for she knew her father’s 
liking for fresh fish, and she felt they might tempt his 
appetite which had been lagging in the past week. 

The two girls were winding up their lines chatting 
away when they heard a strange disturbance. Behind 



SHEP SAVES THE DAY 


7 £/ 

them an angry farmer brandished a cane, muttering im¬ 
precations as he approached, “Git out o’ here in a hurry! 
Don’t you know that this is my land and yer trespassin’? 
I’ll have you arrested, you vagabonds!” 

Lydia recognised the intruder as a neighbor who lived 
on the back road. She knew that he claimed to own the 
canal, and her heart filled with terror. The fact that the 
land was owned by the government did not lessen 
Lydia’s fear of the man, although she knew that he had 
no more claim to it than she had. 

Hetty was even more frightened than Lydia for she 
thought he might really have them arrested. Both girls 
trembled so that they could scarcely get their things to¬ 
gether as they prepared for flight. Nearer and nearer 
came the man, anger showing plainly in his eyes and his 
upraised arm. 

Just then Shep came out of his hiding place in the 
willows and rushed at the interloper with a defiant bark. 
The stranger turned and hurriedly quit the premises 
without even once looking back. 

Shep followed him until he jumped the fence in his 
haste to be out of reach of the dog. Then Shep, realizing 
that they were rid of him, came back to the girls wag¬ 
ging his tail for their approval. 

“Good old Shep! You’re a peach,” praised Lydia. 
“What would we have done without you!” And she 
put her arms around the collie’s woolly neck and 
hugged him close. 

But not until the man was out of sight did the two 



8o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


girls breathe easily. Then Lydia explained to Hetty 
about the neighbor who thought he owned the canal 
and all the land bordering on it. 

“He doesn’t really. I suppose he thought I didn’t 
know any better, but I was afraid of him. He wouldn’t 
have dared say anything if some one older were with us,” 
insisted Lydia. 

“I’m mighty glad he’s gone!” cried Hetty. “I hope 
I never see him again!” 

Father was delighted with the fish and with Lydia for 
sending him her share of them. That evening they had 
a real feast. Hetty was pleased to see her father eat with 
something of his former appetite. During the meal she 
entertained him with a recital of their adventures of the 
afternoon. She laughed as she told him about the angry 
farmer. It was amusing to her now that she was safe 
at home. 









Chapter VIII 

GOOD-BYE, FRIENDLY VILLAGE 

For a whole week there was so little to do with pic¬ 
tures that Hetty found time to do a number of inter¬ 
esting things after the housekeeping was finished. She 
had made many friends in the village and she divided her 
time among them. 

When she was not at Lydia’s, or when Lydia was too 
busy at home to come down to the little house, she would 
take Jeremiah and spend long hours with the children 
of the village. Some of them were ragged and not too 
clean, but Hetty loved them all. 

Sometimes she would play school with the group. 
Always she was chosen as the teacher which pleased her 
81 





82 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


not a little as that was the one great desire of her heart— 
to be a teacher when she grew up. 

One morning when her duties were finished, she took 
Jeremiah in her arms and started down the main street 
of the little town in search of adventure. The sun was 
shining hot through the leaves of the trees that lined 
either side of the street; and scarcely any air was mov¬ 
ing, so Hetty kept in the shade of the huge elms. As 
she was passing Mr. Stifel’s grocery she caught a glimpse 
of his stout form through the doorway. He called to 
her, “Hetty, where are you goin’ with that feline quad¬ 
ruped? Is that the one I gave you a box fer? Come in 
and let me look him over!” 

Hetty was just in the mood to listen to one of his in¬ 
imitable talks. So she opened the screen door and entered 
the grocery, empty except for Mr. Stifel and his own cat, 
Isaiah. 

At sight of the strange cat Jeremiah puffed himself 
up and jumped out of Hetty’s restraining arms, landing 
full on the bigger cat. Isaiah utterly ignored Jeremiah 
as if he had been a fly that had taken a moment to light. 
Whereupon the visiting kitten began to spit and prance 
around as if he were determined to make himself seen. 

“Well, I’ll be darned! If that don’t beat you,” laughed 
Mr. Stifel. “That mite of a kitten trying to pick a fight 
out of one triple his size! ” 

When Jeremiah found that he could not prevail on 
the older cat to start a scrap, he changed his tactics and 
began trying to play with him. The playful mood won 



GOOD-BYE, FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


83 


where the fighting attitude failed and soon they were 
rolling over each other on the floor having a grand time. 

“What do you call this here specimen of pugilistic 
art?” asked Mr. Stifel jokingly. 

“Jeremiah,” replied Hetty trying to hide a grin, for 
she didn’t want him to think she had named her cat 
after a prophet just to make fun of his own. 

“Well, as I live, if we ain’t got another prophet in 
town! What does he prophesy?” he asked. 

“Nothing yet, I guess, unless it’s trouble. He’s been 
the forerunner of his share of that!” explained Hetty 
as she recited some of the scrapes he had been in. “Father 
won’t let me keep him unless I put him in his box when 
he is in the house. He’s ruined several pictures and 
seems to think everything is made for him to play with! ” 

Mr. Stifel had known Hetty’s father when he taught 
school in Fort Jefferson a long time ago. Now he started 
off on a yarn about some things that had happened then. 

Hetty liked nothing better than stories, especially if 
there was some truth in them, so when he had finished 
she begged him to tell another. 

“Did I ever tell you about the Hunted House?” he 
inquired. 

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. Is it a ghost story?” asked 
Hetty. 

“No, it isn’t a ghost story. I said hunted, not haunted” 
laughed Mr. Stifel good-naturedly. “You see it was this 
way. The old man who lived in the cottage that was 
afterwards known as the Hunted House, was rather 



THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


eccentric and was reported to be quite wealthy. People 
told that he hid money at various times about the house 
and promptly forgot where he hid it. 

“The neighbors and the few servants that he had, told 
of many queer searching parties about the house. When 
the old gentleman needed some extra change, he would 
set the servant to hunt for some, and it was reported that 
the hunt was always successful. 

“But there came a time when many hunts were insti¬ 
gated without the least success. When the old man died, 
leaving barely enough in the bank to pay the funeral 
needs, the lawyer who was named to handle the estate 
hunted the house over but he found not a copper. 

“The small farm was willed to a great-nephew who 
was the nearest living relative. He came to look after 
his estate and hearing the tales about hidden coins, insti¬ 
tuted a rather extensive search on his own account, but 
he too was doomed to disappointment. Finally this heir 
left the small farm in the hands of a real estate dealer to 
sell and he went back to New York. 

“After that the place was overrun with thieves, or 
maybe they were just prying people trying to find some 
of the hidden money. The man who has the place to sell 
boarded up the windows and the doors to keep intruders 
out. But no one has bothered it lately. I guess they have 
given up trying to find anything.” 

Hetty had a dozen questions ready to spring, but just 
then some customers came in to buy groceries. She de¬ 
cided she had better run home for it must be near dinner 




GOOD-BYE, FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


85 


time, as the customers seemed to be in a hurry. She de¬ 
termined to come again soon and ask him more about 
the Hunted House. 

She slipped out of the grocery and hurried back to 
the little house. She noticed that the sign ART 
GALLERY was missing from the front of the picture 
wagon, and she felt as though a cloud had drifted over 
the bright sun that was shining. 

Father was bustling about the studio doing nothing 
that Hetty could make head or tail of. But later she 
noticed he had the big box out and was packing the 
camera very carefully with excelsior and tissue paper 
wrappings. 

Hetty waited for him to explain, but she knew in ad¬ 
vance that it meant “Good-bye, Friendly Village,” and 
she could hardly keep the tears from brimming over. 
She had feared it for several days, but she would not al¬ 
low herself to think about it. There would be time 
enough when it happened, she thought. 

At the dinner table Father suddenly announced, “We 
will be leaving in the morning, Hetty. Business seems 
to be finished here. We’ll go on to Timberville.” 

“How far is it?” inquired Hetty, making conversation 
to try and keep from showing her great disappointment. 

“It’s a full day’s journey from here,” he replied. “We 
must get up early in the morning and get a good start.” 

“May I go and tell Lydia good-bye this evening?” she 
asked. 

“Of course you may. Wouldn’t you rather go this af- 



86 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


ternoon? Then we can get to bed early tonight and have 
a long rest and be ready for a hard day tomorrow,” sug¬ 
gested Father. 

“Yes, I would,” she answered, thinking how much 
longer she could stay at Lydia’s. 

“You go now, and I will do the dishes and tidy up the 
house. That will give you a long afternoon,” he an¬ 
nounced. 

“And I’ll take Jeremiah along so he can say good-bye 
to his mother and the family,” she declared. 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Hetty. Maybe his 
mother won’t want him to go so far away. In that case 
don’t hesitate to leave him with his relatives! ” laughed 
Father. 

But Hetty did not think it much of a joke. She was 
not in a joking mood, but she managed to grin at her 
father as she left the little house. Then she resumed her 
thoughts which were not happy ones. Just when she 
was having such wonderful times, they would have to 
move. 

But business was over here and she knew that her 
father must move on to a new town and new people so 
that he could make a living. He had been very success¬ 
ful in this little town, but business was business. 

Hetty wondered as she walked on her way to Lydia’s 
what the new town would be like. Would she find 
likeable playmates there, too? But of course she would! 
How foolish of her to even question it, yet she doubted 
if she would find one to take Lydia’s place. 



GOOD-BYE, FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


87 


Lydia met her at the gate, “Gee, I’m glad you came! 

I have to drive the horse this afternoon and I won’t mind 
if you’re here; you can ride the horse,” she announced. 

And so it was that the two girls spent one of their 
happiest afternoons, even if it was their last. Hetty 
thought it would be better to tell Lydia just before leav¬ 
ing, and not to spoil a perfectly good afternoon, so when 
the time came to go home she found it very hard to say. 
The words seemed stuck in her throat. 

Finally she blurted out, “We’re leaving Fort Jefferson 
in the morning, Lydia!” And two tears welled up and 
made their way down her cheeks followed by a regular 
stream. 

“Leaving! In the morning!” cried Lydia, not trying 
to hide her surprise and disappointment. 

“Ye-es,” sobbed Hetty openly. 

Lydia knew that the little house and its occupants 
would leave some time, but she had not figured on any¬ 
thing as abrupt as this, and she was fairly stumped. Tears 
filled her eyes and she could not hide her grief. 

“I’ll write to you when we get to the new town,” 
promised Hetty, trying to cheer Lydia up, forgetting 
her own sorrow for a moment at sight of her friend s. 

“Please do,” said Lydia, swallowing hard to keep back 
the tears. “And I promise to answer it by return mail!” 

“You sound like a mail order catalog!” laughed Hetty. 

That broke the tension of grief at the parting, at least 
for the moment, then the girls made their vows to keep 



THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


up their friendship as long as they lived, and maybe some 
day they would see each other again. 

They captured Jeremiah in the yard where he was 
rolling and tumbling with his few remaining brothers 
and sisters. The mother cat was looking on apparently 
in deep thought and extremely proud of her family now 
that her stray one had come home. 

Lydia walked with Hetty carrying Jeremiah, and by 
the time they had reached the end of the lane, the girls 
were both in their usual good humor. 

“Good-bye, Hetty! Good-bye! Good-bye, Jeremiah! 
Good-bye, little house! Tell your father good-bye for 
me, too! ” sang Lydia. 

“Good-bye, Lydia, and don’t forget to answer my let¬ 
ters ! ” warned Hetty. 

Shep, who had followed them down the lane and was 
trying to chase a squirrel some distance from them, 
seemed to sense something different and unusual in their 
parting, for he came bounding up and almost knocked 
Hetty over in his greeting. 

“It’s about time you came to say good-bye, Shep. I 
thought you’d forgotten me! ” said Hetty as she buried 
her face in his soft ruff and hugged him close. 

“I almost forgot to give you Jeremiah,” said Lydia as 
she handed him over. 

“I almost forgot him, too!” laughed Hetty. 

Hetty awoke the next morning to the sound of the 
drip, drip, of the gentle rain, and she realized that she 
didn’t mind half so much leaving in the rain. She liked 



GOOD-BYE, FRIENDLY VILLAGE 


89 


nothing better than riding in the rain. Besides, there 
wasn’t much she could do by herself in the little house 
except play with Jeremiah, and he appeared so sleepy 
and lazy that Hetty felt that the day would have been 
lost anyway. 

Not for a long time had they eaten such an early 
breakfast, or one that they had so thoroughly enjoyed. 
Hetty knew that getting up before sunrise gave one an 
extra appetite. 

Soon they were traveling down the road, with Friendly 
Village disappearing in the distance. The sorrow of leav¬ 
ing her friends was soon forgotten in her keen antici¬ 
pation of the new town. 

“What did you say it was called, Father?” she asked. 

“Timberville,” he answered. 

“Timberville! What a queer name! It must be full 
of trees. Is it as big as Fort Jefferson?” she inquired. 

“Yes, I think perhaps it is a bit larger if anything,” 
replied her father. 

Before they had gone a mile the rain stopped suddenly, 
and the sun, which was just peeping over the horizon, 
broke through the few remaining clouds in all its golden 
splendor. In the west, silhouetted against the bright 
blue of the sky, was a gorgeous rainbow. 

“Look, Father, a rainbow! Isn’t it lovely?” cried 
Hetty delightedly, for she thought she had never seen 
anything quite so beautiful. 

“Rainbow at night, sailor’s delight; rainbow in the 
morning, the sailor’s warning!” sang Father. 



9 o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“What do you mean by that?” asked Hetty. 

“Just what it says. There is liable to be a storm on the 
sea when there is a rainbow in the morning,” explained 
her father. 

“I see, but it doesn’t look like a storm here, does it?” 
she asked. 

“No, it looks as if we might have a fine day now,” 
answered Father. “And I’m glad, too. I don’t like to 
have Old Doll out in the rain for long.” 

The air smelled so fresh and sweet after the rain that 
Hetty took great deep breaths of it, feeling that she could 
never get enough of its spring freshness. It was good to 
be alive on such a morning, and Hetty felt that she was 
a lucky girl to have more surprises ahead. So she settled 
herself to enjoy the ride and to miss nothing along the 
highway. 





A NEW TOWN 

The Traveling Gallery and its occupants had gone 
less than two miles from Fort Jefferson when they came 
upon a cottage set back a short distance from the main 
road at the end of a short lane. Its windows were 
boarded up and nearly covered by a lovely green vine 
which extended the full length of the front of the house. 
On the fence surrounding the yard was a square board 
sign with huge letters FOR SALE, which explained in 
two words the untenanted air of the deserted-looking 
place. 

Father stopped the old horse and climbed down from 
the wagon seat, “I’m going to investigate. You watch 
Old Doll,” he said. 


9 1 


























92 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


He swung up the short length of lane and disappeared 
around the house. 

Hetty’s thoughts started running away with her. What 
a lovely home it could be made into! Painted white with 
green shutters like the country home where they had 
taken the family group picture. Wouldn’t she just love 
to help fix it up! They would be near Friendly Village, 
and Lydia, too! 

They could have a lovely yard and a garden, and 
Jeremiah could run all over the place. He would not need 
to be kept shut up in his box. He could have the barn 
for his home. Of course the garden and yard were now 
overgrown with weeds, but Hetty was seeing it as it 
could be arranged. 

Then she realized she was building air castles, for no 
doubt the price would be entirely too high for their s lim 
purse. She resolved to forget about it and she set her 
thoughts ahead to the new town. She wondered if she 
would have as good times as she had had in Friendly 
Village. No doubt there would be girls there just as nice 
as in the town they were leaving. 

At this moment Father came around the house and 
up the lane to the waiting, dreaming Hetty. 

“The sign underneath in small letters says to inquire 
at the house to the right. We’ll stop at the next house!” 
he said. 

“Oh, Father, what a lovely place it could be made 
into!” cried Hetty. “You don’t suppose—do you think— 
I expect it would be—” Her words were a tumbled mass 



A NEW TOWN 


93 


of confusion, as if they could not keep up with her racing 
thoughts. 

“Slow down, Hetty. What are you trying to say?” 
asked her father. 

“It would be too good to be true! ” she declared. 

“What would be too good to be true?” asked Father, 
not quite realizing the yearning of his young daughter. 

“That we could ever buy the little cottage!” she ex¬ 
plained. 

“Oh, would you like it that much?” he asked. 

“More than that even. It would be wonderful!” she 
cried, hugging her arms in delight. 

Then they set to planning what they could do to the 
cottage to make it attractive, but before they had half 
finished, they were in front of the house to the right, 
where they were to inquire about the FOR SALE 
cottage. 

This house was near the road with only a small yard 
in front, but it was nicely kept with flowers blooming in 
neat beds near the fence. Hetty took the lines while her 
father went into the yard and rapped at the front door. 

The door opened and Father disappeared inside. 
When he returned to the little house on wheels, he 
looked rather crestfallen and disappointed. Hetty tried 
to figure out what the expression meant. 

When he had climbed up on the wagon seat and taken 
the lines, he spoke to the horse to move on. Then he said 
to Hetty, “It is to be sold at the sheriff’s sale the first day 
of September.” 



94 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“How much do they want for it?” asked Hetty 
anxiously. 

“Mr. Corwin who lives here has the selling of it. He 
said that anyone who could put up eight hundred dollars 
in cash would be allowed to take over the place and as¬ 
sume the mortgage for the balance. That could be done 
any time between now and the day of the sale,” he ex¬ 
plained further, while the expression on Hetty’s face 
changed from happy anticipation to one of great disap¬ 
pointment. She realized as much as Father how im¬ 
possible it would be for them to raise that amount. 

Several hundred dollars had gone into the building 
and equipping of the little house on wheels. On ac¬ 
count of Father’s health the doctor’s bills had been large. 
In the city Father had had to keep a housekeeper while 
Hetty was small, in fact, it was only the last year that 
they had tried to do without one. He and Hetty had 
done the work together. 

Hetty knew there was not much money, but they 
would save hard all summer and maybe by fall there 
would be enough. Still she was rather dubious about it. 
She wondered what Father thought about it. 

“Do you suppose, if we saved our money all summer, 
that we could possibly have enough by fall, Father?” 
she asked. 

“That would mean lots of customers, Hetty. We 
wouldn’t dare count on it, but it doesn’t cost anything to 
plan ahead.” 

And so they talked and planned how they would save 



A NEW TOWN 


95 


every cent to buy the little cottage. Father explained that 
there were several acres of land that went with the house. 
It would raise enough grain and hay for Old Doll, and 
the cow and the chickens that belonged to the place. 

“Wouldn’t that be great! To have our own milk and 
not to have to buy it in a bottle. We’d have our own 
eggs, too, wouldn’t we, Father?” asked Hetty, showing 
more enthusiasm as they talked. 

“Yes, of course, at least we hope the chickens would 
be the laying kind!” laughed Father. 

Hetty was so happy as they planned a possible new 
home that she began to whistle. She always sang or 
whistled when she was very happy. Father liked to tease 
her so he said, “A whistling girl and a crowing hen 
will always come to some bad end!” But this did not 
check her overflow of spirits. 

The day seemed short and the trip not nearly as tire¬ 
some as their trip to their first town had been, because 
they had something interesting to talk about. 

It was nearly dusk when they drove into the town of 
Timberville. Hetty knew at once that it was larger than 
Fort Jefferson; it looked larger to her, or seemed to be 
spread out more. It had not only one main street, but 
several little short streets which crossed the main one. 
There was even a railroad! 

“Father, do trains run through Timberville?” asked 
Hetty. 

“Through, is right! They don’t stop here. Only one 
train a day stops,” laughed her father. 



9 6 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


The streets seemed empty of children or even grown 
people; only a few stray dogs sat on doorsteps. Hetty 
imagined the people were all indoors eating their sup¬ 
per, for she could smell a delicious odor of food. She 
sniffed. “Fried potatoes! Father, do you smell what 
I do?” 

“That makes me hungry! How about you?” he asked. 

“Me, too! Our noon lunch seems such a long way off 
now,” she answered. 

As Father had made up his mind to move rather sud¬ 
denly, he had not had time to write to the mayor. So he 
stopped at the City Hall to get his permit, and to find 
where would be the best place to park the little house. 

The mayor persuaded Father to rent a lot right in the 
center of town, directly across the street from the Post 
Office, for he explained to Father, “In that way you will 
be your own advertisement.” 

Hetty was not so sure she would like that, but she 
said nothing until they were established in their new 
location. 

Old Doll had to be taken quite a distance from the 
little house to a stable on the edge of town. 

“That will be a nice walk for us when we go to feed 
her,” said Father. 

“Yes, but what about giving her grass along the road?” 
inquired Hetty. 

“I hope to be so busy that I’ll need you every minute!” 
he explained. “Perhaps we can rent a pasture for her 
during our stay here ” 



A NEW TOWN 


97 


Hetty hustled around the kitchenette preparing their 
supper, for she was beginning to feel hollow clear 
through. While she set the table and peeled some po¬ 
tatoes—the smell of food while coming into town had 
been too much for her—Father busied himself about the 
studio. 

In the city Father had done quite a bit of enlarging 
portraits. Crayons he called them. It was such hard 
work and so tedious that he had not advertised them at 
Fort Jefferson. Now he thought it would be a way to 
make some extra money. He made a large display of 
both prints and crayons and hung them in front of the 
little house. By this time Hetty had the meal ready and 
they sat down to enjoy it. 

Hetty thought this was like living in town. They 
were as near the sidewalk as any of the business places. 
She knew that she could do all the window shopping she 
wanted here, for she had only to step out in front of the 
little house to see across the street or to the grocery to 
the left of them. 

The only restaurant that the village afforded was to the 
right of the little house. Father explained that if they 
were too busy to cook, they need only stop next door to 
eat. 

But Hetty made up her mind that they would do their 
own cooking, even if they were busy. She knew it would 
be cheaper and she planned many menus ahead that she 
thought would be economical and nourishing. 

The next week was a busy one for the Burketts. The 



98 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


people seemed to be either wealthier or more extravagant 
than those of Fort Jefferson. Hetty hadn’t been able to 
figure out which. Anyway, it seemed that everyone 
wanted pictures taken. And there were many that 
wished crayon portraits, too. 

Usually they wanted one made of an old print or tin¬ 
type of some dear one long since dead. These pictures 
were sometimes faded and scarcely discernible, but 
Father was so much of an artist that he needed only a 
likeness. His fame spread until he was fairly swamped 
with work, but that lasted only a few weeks and the 
rush was over. 

Hetty did not care at all when Father informed her 
that they would be moving in a few days. She had been 
so busy from the first that she had had little time to see 
the town or the children in it, except as they came to the 
studio to have their pictures taken. 

The town itself was not at all like Friendly Village. 
It was much noisier, for the trains went through at all 
hours of the day and night, making a great roar. The 
railroad track was but a short distance from the little 
house on wheels. Often the noise awakened Hetty in 
the night. 

She would wonder for a minute what the great noise 
was. Then it would come to her that they were not in 
Friendly Village. Sometimes it sounded as if the huge 
engine were coming right toward the little house. Hetty 
would cringe until the train was past, for she never felt 
quite safe about it. What if it should jump the track? 



A NEW TOWN 


99 


The people of Timberville were not as pleasant as 
those where she had spent so many happy hours. But 
she cared very little, for she was more concerned in mak¬ 
ing money in the new town, than in making friends. 

On the last Saturday night before they left Timber- 
ville Father was busily engaged in counting up the 
profits made in the past few weeks, when he stopped 
suddenly and looked up. “Hetty, if we do as well for 
the rest of the summer as we have done here, we’ll have 
our FOR SALE house before fall!” he announced. 

“I’m afraid I can’t wait!” cried Hetty, but when she 
noticed the tired lines on her father’s face she wondered 
if he would be able to stand work like that all summer. 
“What is the name of the new town, and where is it?” 
she asked. 

“It’s Zanesfield, and it will be more than a day’s jour¬ 
ney. We will need to take two days to get there. It’s 
rather historical; it was once a Wyandott Indian Vil¬ 
lage,” informed her father. 

“I’m sure that will be interesting. Will we see any 
real flesh and blood Indians there?” she asked. 

“No, of course not, but every few years the townspeo¬ 
ple give an Indian Festival in commemoration of their 
founder, Colonel Zane. Perhaps this is the year for it. 
I can’t be certain,” said Father. 

“I do hope it is!” cried Hetty. “That would bring 
many people there, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes, they come there from as far as two hundred 
miles to help celebrate the festival,” replied Father. 



100 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


The next morning the Traveling Gallery and its occu¬ 
pants left Timberville with only a few hurried farewells, 
and no heartaches at all. Hetty enjoyed the trip to the 
next town. They did not hurry, as they were going to 
take two days for the journey. 

They stopped the first evening of their drive near a 
woods, and gypsy-like, made camp for the night. Hetty 
thought it would be fun to make a campfire and cook 
their supper out of doors, so Father showed her how to 
lay the sticks for the fire and while she cooked the meal, 
he gathered some brush to make wood for their break¬ 
fast fire. If they were going to be gypsies, Father said 
they might as well be good gypsies. They both declared 
that never had anything tasted as good as the bacon and 
eggs that Hetty fried over the campfire. 

The next day found them rested for the final lap of 
the journey. Hetty wondered as they rode on toward 
the new town if she would like it any better than Tim¬ 
berville. The Indian tradition would be something to 
look forward to. She hoped this would be the year of 
their festival, or whatever it was that they celebrated. 

Father had been rather quiet as they rode along. Het¬ 
ty did not want to disturb him by asking* any more ques¬ 
tions about it, but she knew that she could find out all 
about it at the town. The drive seemed short, and early 
in the evening, while the sun was still a golden ball 
above the western horizon, they drove past the Indian 
monument, which was at the very gate of the city itself. 

Father seemed to know the town, for he headed Old 



A NEW TOWN 


ioi 


Doll directly back of the Post Office on a short street 
where there was a vacant lot. While Hetty held the 
lines, he went into the Post Office. When he came back 
to the little house he said that they could stay on their 
present location. 

Hetty busied herself getting supper, for she wished to 
take a walk over the town before dark, but there seemed 
so much to do that before she had finished everything 
it was beginning to grow dark. Well, she could wait 
until morning, she thought. She spent the rest of the 
evening before bedtime playing with Jeremiah, for she 
felt that she had neglected him dreadfully of late. 





Chapter X 
TWIN BABIES 

Early the next morning, as soon as the housework 
was finished, Hetty started out to explore the new town. 
Her curiosity had been aroused by Father’s remarks 
about the Indians, and she wanted to see for herself just 
what the town was like. As she walked through the 
streets she noticed that the June roses were open early. 
She imagined they were nodding and smiling to her as 
she passed. 

The houses were much like the houses in other towns 
that she had visited, except that each one had roses some¬ 
where about it. Either the porch was covered with a 
beautiful rose vine, or, lacking a porch, there would be 
an immense trellis in the yard covered with the lovely 
pink blossoms. The air seemed filled with a sweet 
fragrance. 


102 



TWIN BABIES 


103 


The town itself was not very different from the town 
they had just left, although it was smaller. The houses 
were not as close together. There were much larger 
yards and gardens. Few children were on the streets, 
and Hetty thought that they were not out of bed yet, for 
there had been many children on the streets the evening 
before. Hetty smiled as she recalled how they had stared 
at the little house on wheels as Old Doll had leisurely 
pulled it down the main street of their village. No doubt 
they wondered what it could be. 

Hetty walked in the direction from which they had 
come the night before. She wanted to see close up the 
huge Indian monument that was at the entrance of the 
little town. Before she realized it, the large boulder 
loomed up before her, sparkling in the early morning 
sunshine. 

The rock looked as if it were covered with minute 
particles of frost, but Hetty knew it was only shiny bits 
of stone. On the very top of the immense rock was the 
form of a bronze Indian, standing ever so straight and 
tall. 

The huge stone was set in a large square cement base 
or platform, surrounded by a queer fence made of iron 
posts connected by massive iron chains. Hetty had never 
before seen such big links as there were in this great 
chain. 

Square copper plates on each side of the monument 
were inscribed to the memory of Isaac Zane and Simon 
Kenton. Hetty read them all with much interest, but 



THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


104 


she was disappointed. These tablets did not tell all she 
wanted to know. 

While she was sitting on the platform, wondering 
about it, a gray-haired man, quite bent with age and 
carrying a cane, approached from the direction of the 
town. He seemed to be going nowhere in particular, for 
he sauntered along in rather a leisurely way, looking to 
the right and to the left, apparently enjoying his early 
morning stroll. As he came near and spied Hetty hud¬ 
dled in front of the monument, he smiled a heart-warm¬ 
ing smile as he said, “Good morning, little lady, you are 
up early this bright day. Are you lost?” 

“No, I’m not lost! ” she replied. “I was taking a walk 
and I wanted to see the monument better.” 

“You must be a stranger in these parts,” he volun¬ 
teered. 

Yes, I am, she admitted. “I came to your town only 
last night.” 

“Well, now, I’m right glad to meet you. Are you 
visiting someone here in the village?” he inquired. 

Then Hetty explained about the Traveling Gallery 
and told him of the towns where she had been during 
the spring and early summer. 

The old man seemed pleased to have found someone 
to talk to, for he settled himself on the platform beside 
Hetty, with his cane on his knees. Hetty was just tin¬ 
gling to ask a million questions about Colonel Zane and 
the Indians, but she hardly knew where to begin. 

“May I ask what your name is?” inquired the old gen- 



TWIN BABIES 


105 


tleman before Hetty had time to form any questions of 
her own. 

“My name’s Hetty, Hetty Burkett!” she replied. 
“What’s yours?” 

“Hetty! Well, now, that’s a real old-fashioned name, 
and I like it! It just suits me!” And he chuckled to 
himself. “My mother’s name was Mehitable, but she 
was called Hetty for short. Is your long name Mehitable, 
too?” asked the stranger, ignoring Hetty’s question for 
the moment. 

“No, Hetty’s all the name I have. What is your name, 
please?” asked Hetty, determined to have him answer 
her question. 

“Bless my soul, yes, I clean forgot. My name’s Marcus 
Aurelius Brown Short, but most folks call me Uncle 
Mark,” he answered her. 

Hetty thought that was a queer name; it was any¬ 
thing but short. Why did they give people such long 
names anyway? She smiled as she asked, “May I call 
you Uncle Mark, too?” 

“Of course you may, child,” he answered with a 
twinkle in his eye. 

“And will you tell me the story about Colonel Zane 
and the Indians? It doesn’t tell much on these inscrip¬ 
tions,” ventured Hetty. 

Uncle Mark felt highly complimented at this request. 
The lines around his eyes deepened as he cleared his 
throat and began, “Isaac Zane was born in Virginia 
back in 1753. When he was nine years old he was cap- 



io6 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


tured by the Wyandott Indians and brought to this 
country. This town was then a small Indian village. 
There were no white settlers in this part of the country 
then. The Chief of the tribe, Tarhe, and his wife, White 
Crane, brought up Isaac as their own son. 

“When he grew to manhood he married their daugh¬ 
ter, Princess Myeerah, with whom he had played since 
childhood. Princess Myeerah was more white than In¬ 
dian, as her mother, a French Canadian, was stolen 
when quite small and adopted into the Indian tribe. 
Later she married the Chief. Isaac Zane was the only 
white settler in this valley for half a century.” 

When Uncle Mark paused in his narrative, Hetty 
asked, “Won’t you tell me more about the princess?” 

“Well, the princess had three suitors; two leaders of 
Indian tribes and Colonel Zane, her childhood sweet¬ 
heart. She announced that she would marry the one 
who could take her from her horse, Lightning, going 
at top speed. The two Chiefs tried but failed. Isaac 
Zane, or the Colonel as he was called, won out and was 
married to the Princess Myeerah with all the ceremonies 
that went with the Wyandott Indian rites,” continued 
Uncle Mark. 

“And were there princesses born to them?” interposed 
Hetty. 

“Yes, there were children, if that is what you mean, 
and they lived in this very town,” answered Uncle Mark. 

“Now can you tell me about this monument, and how 
they came to place it here?” asked Hetty. 



TWIN BABIES 


107 


“Yes, sirree, I can tell you about it! I guess I watched 
every move they made getting it here; it took them two 
weeks to move it three miles, and five days to place it 
upright on the foundation!” explained Uncle Mark. 

“It must weigh an enormous lot!” interrupted Hetty. 

“I reckon it does, somewhere near sixty tons! ” boast¬ 
ed Uncle Mark. 

“But where did they get it?” queried Hetty, not satis¬ 
fied with his explanation. 

“Didn’t I tell you? They got it on a farm about three 
miles from town. It’s what they call ‘natural granite.’ 
That’s what makes it so shiny,” continued Uncle Mark. 
“The townspeople put this monument up in memory 
of Colonel Zane, who had done so much for the early 
white settlers.” 

“What did he do, Uncle Mark?” asked Hetty. 

“When the war broke out between the Indians and 
the whites, this Colonel Zane acted as a mediator and 
saved many of the whites from the wrath of the Indians 
and their dreaded tomahawk. The town was named for 
him, too. For a long time the citizens of Zanesfield, in¬ 
cluding the descendants of Isaac Zane, have given an 
Indian Festival every fifth year.” 

“Oh, do they have it this year?” cried Hetty. 

“Yes, they do. How did you know?” asked Uncle 
Mark. 

“I didn’t know, but Father told me they have a cele¬ 
bration every few years. He didn’t know whether this 
was the year or not,” explained Hetty. 



io8 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Just a little over two weeks, now. It’s always on the 
Fourth of July every fifth year. The fact is, they have 
been making preparations and rehearsing all summer. 
It is a big affair for these village folks. Most of them 
claim some relationship to the Colonel,” announced Un¬ 
cle Mark with a twinkle in his deep blue eyes. “I don’t 
figure they all are, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone in 
the village will take part in the big Festival, and many 
people from miles around will act in the plays. People 
come from the east and the west, the north and the south 
to take part in the big event.” 

“What do they do, Uncle Mark?” questioned Hetty, 
not wishing to have anything left out. 

“They have an immense parade in the morning, but 
the most important thing of the whole Festival is the 
Indian Pageant, in which people act out dramatic scenes 
in the lives of the early settlers. They have over one hun¬ 
dred fine saddle horses that take part in it, too,” he con¬ 
tinued. 

“With real horses! Where do they have it—I mean 
the Pageant?” asked Hetty. 

“On Bristle Ridge Hill, just a half mile from town. 
It’s a natural amphitheatre. The play goes on down in 
the valley, while the audience sits on the hillsides and 
watches it,” explained Uncle Mark. 

The old gentleman was so pleased to have such an 
appreciative listener that he talked on and on. Hetty 
sat entranced at his tales. She was living in the time of 
the Indians as she heard these thrilling yarns. 



TWIN BABIES 


109 


It suddenly came to her that she had been sitting on 
the hard cement a long time. She got to her feet, “I 
must be going. Father will think I’m lost and be wor¬ 
ried,” she announced. 

“Well, now, I’m real sorry you have to go, but I’m 
mighty glad I met you,” said Uncle Mark. “I’ll come 
over to your picture wagon and see your pappy some 
time.” 

“Yes, please do,” urged Hetty. “Father will be glad 
to know you. Thanks for the stories.” 

The old gentleman got up rather stiffly with the use of 
his cane and continued on down the street. Hetty turned 
to wave at him and then she hurried as fast as she could 
back to the little house. She saw, at first glance, that 
Father was taking a picture, and when she took a second 
look she could hardly believe her eyes. 

There were two babies on the plush settee! They were 
so much alike that Hetty thought she was seeing double. 
She rubbed her eyes, and still there were two babies. She 
had heard of twin babies, but she had never seen any be¬ 
fore. Lydia had told her about an aunt of hers that had 
twin babies that looked so much alike. She stood very 
quietly by the front door and watched them. How cun¬ 
ning they were! 

Father was trying to take their picture, but he was 
having a sorry time of it. They were squirming and 
twisting and would not be quiet even for a second. Poor 
Father was losing patience when he looked up and saw 
Hetty. His face took on a relieved expression as he said, 



no 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Oh, here you are! You are just in time. I need you 
to help keep the babies quiet. Here, stand by the camera 
and see what you can do. They won’t keep quiet for 
me!” 

Hetty smilingly took her place in front of the babies. 
She was glad she was back in time to help Father. 

The babies’ mother was behind the curtain trying to 
watch them so they wouldn’t topple off the settee. 

Hetty smiled and clapped her hands at the babies, but 
they insisted on trying to get down. Their mother ex¬ 
plained to Hetty that they were just beginning to walk 
and wanted always to be on the floor. 

When Hetty’s efforts failed to interest them, she ran 
to the little box in the kitchenette and came back with 
Jeremiah in her arms. The twins straightened up as if 
by magic, and looked at the cat with admiring eyes. 
They were so still that Father took advantage of it and 
snapped their picture; and quickly turning the plate 
holder over, he snapped another. 

After the picture was taken, Hetty let the twins pat 
Jeremiah as a reward for keeping still. 

The babies’ mother was extremely grateful to Hetty 
for her part in helping with the picture. She had feared 
that they would not keep quiet at all. She told Hetty 
all about the twins, and the twins seemed to have fallen 
in love with Hetty. They both wanted to come to her 
at once. She decided she should have two laps instead 
of one, for just one baby the size of the twins filled her 
small lap to overflowing. 



TWIN BABIES 


nx 


She learned that their names were Jean and Joan, 
which she thought just suited them. She wished she 
might have them always to play with. They would be 
much more fun than Jeremiah, but more work, too, she 
thought. 

Hetty realized that she would not dare to run off and 
stay as long again. She hadn’t thought there would be 
a customer so soon. The babies’ mother explained that 
she had a sister in Fort Jefferson who had told her about 
the Traveling Gallery, and she had made up her mind 
to have the babies’ picture taken when she saw the little 
house drive into town the evening before. She knew by 
her sister’s description that it was the one that had been 
at Fort Jefferson in the spring. 

Hetty played with the twins and listened to their 
mother, when all at once she remembered that Lydia 
had told her about an aunt that had twin babies. The 
mother spoke of a sister at Fort Jefferson. Could it be— 
but, of course, it couldn’t! Nevertheless, she spoke up 
quickly, “What is your sister’s name?” 

“Langdon! Mrs. John Langdon. They live a little 
way from Fort Jefferson in the country,” she replied. 

“Then you’re Lydia’s aunt!” cried Hetty excitedly. 

“Yes, I am. And you’re Hetty, aren’t you? My sister 
wrote me about you, too! she explained. 

“Oh, I can’t believe it’s true! These are the twins that 
Lydia told me about. I never thought I should see 
them!” exclaimed Hetty. 

She was so excited over finding someone who knew 



THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


112 


Lydia, that she could not talk enough. Father said she 
sounded like an express train. She was as happy as she 
could be for she had heard from her friend. Lydia had 
not been very prompt to answer Hetty’s letters, and she 
feared her chum might be ill, but the babies’ mother said 
that Lydia was well. 

“She never was much of a letter writer,” she explained. 

Hetty could hardly bear to part with the twins, but the 
mother promised to bring them again to the little house. 

“Better yet, you come to see them!” she told Hetty 
and explained how to find where they lived. 

When Hetty was alone with her father again she 
told him about her friend of the monument. 

“And to think, Father,” she triumphed, “they do have 
the Indian Festival this year. The Fourth of July. Isn’t 
that fine?” 

“That ought to make us some extra work,” rejoiced 
Father. 

That night Hetty sat down and wrote to Lydia and 
told her all about the twins and how glad she was to 
find them. Then she explained about the wonderful 
Indian Festival that the town was going to have in a few 
weeks. She hardly knew which she was the more excited 
about. 




AN INDIAN PAGEANT 

Hetty stopped at the Post Office the next morning to 
mail her letter to Lydia. The Post Master greeted her 
with a smile, “Good morning, Miss, and how are you 
this fine day?” 

“I’m fine,” returned Hetty as she deposited her letter 
in its proper place. 

“You’re the Picture Man’s daughter, aren’t you?” he 
questioned. 

“Yes, I am,” admitted Hetty as she turned to leave 
the room. 

113 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


114 


“Hold on here a minute, I’ve something important to 
discuss with you,” he informed her. 

Hetty wondered what he could want with her. He 
had known her only a few minutes. She supposed he 
wanted to jest with her, and she stopped and looked at 
him inquiringly. 

“You see it’s this way,” he continued. “We need a 
little girl about your size to take the part of Betty Zane 
in the Pageant we’re planning to give in about two 
weeks. The girl that was rehearsing for the part, 
sprained her ankle at the last practice, and there just 
aren’t any more girls that size in Zanesfield. The rest 
of them are already in it. Would you consent to take 
the part?” 

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know what to do,” protested 
Hetty. 

“It will be easy. They’ll tell you what to do, and you 
don’t say a word. It’s all action. You can do it all right, 
too, I’m quite sure of it. Now will you? I’m the one 
who has charge of getting the players. I was certainly 
glad when I saw you come in here. I knew you’d be just 
right for the part. How about it?” he insisted. 

“I will, if Father lets me,” Hetty finally consented. 
“I’d love to.” 

Father was willing, and so it was that Hetty was 
given the part of Betty in the big Pageant. She was as 
thrilled over it as any of the villagers could possibly be. 

The next two weeks were indeed busy ones for the 
occupants of the little house. There were many pictures 



AN INDIAN PAGEANT 


III 

taken and Hetty’s time was filled with helping Father 
with them and with rehearsing for her part in the 
Pageant. Even Jeremiah felt sadly neglected, for there 
didn’t seem to be any time left for him. She hadn’t had 
time to call on the twins, either, but she promised her¬ 
self that when the Pageant was over, she would have 
loads of time then. 

Before Hetty realized it the big day had arrived! The 
Fourth of July! Everything was excitement in the town. 
It seemed to grow larger over night. Huge banners hung 
across the streets, each one with the name of some char¬ 
acter in the Pageant. One of the streamers had Betty 
printed in large letters. Hetty was so excited she could 
hardly eat her breakfast. Everywhere she looked she 
saw Indians. She knew they were only white people 
dressed as Indians, but she liked to pretend that they 
were really truly ones. It gave her such queer little 
shivers. 

Just as she finished with the breakfast dishes two 
people came to the studio to have their pictures taken in 
their Indian costumes. They explained that they were 
in the play, and Hetty thought she remembered their 
voices at rehearsal, but she could not be sure. The eve¬ 
ning before they had had a short dress rehearsal before 
sundown and Hetty thought the Indians all looked alike. 

From the moment the first customers came to the 
studio until the Big Pageant in the afternoon, Father was 
busy taking pictures. Even Hetty helped; this time act¬ 
ing as a sort of hostess, helping to find places for every- 



ii6 THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


one to sit until Father was ready and their turn came to 
pose. She knew it would take many days to finish all the 
pictures that Father had taken during the day. She 
smiled to herself, for more work meant more money for 
the little cottage, and she was very happy! 

The pictures were all taken by one o’clock in the after¬ 
noon. Then Hetty hurriedly prepared a lunch, for both 
Hetty and her father had been too busy to stop at the 
noon hour. 

After lunch they followed the crowds to Bristle Ridge 
Hill, about a half mile from town. Hetty knew the way 
for she had been there a number of times for practicing. 
She hoped she would do her part well, and not stumble 
and fall as the girl whose part she had taken had done. 
She explained to Father that she was the one who saved 
Fort Henry from the attack of the Indians, by carrying 
ammunition to the Fort under fire. 

“I’m not really fired on,” explained Hetty, “but it 
sounds real, and it does frighten me a bit. I have to run 
very fast from one fort to another. The Indians try to get 
me, but I reach the fort just in time. It’s exciting. I’m 
only in the last part of the Play. I can sit with you and 
watch the first acts. The director said there would be an 
intermission between the two parts. Then I can run to 
the fort. 

“The first part of the play shows Ebenezer Zane as 
he grew up and married the Princess. He won her, too, 
by grabbing her from her horse while it’s going as fast 
as lightning. That’s its name, too! The last part of the 



AN INDIAN PAGEANT 


117 

play really shows the last battle of the French and In¬ 
dian War. I am Isaac Zane’s sister Betty, who lives at 
Fort Flenry. When a hostile tribe of Indians attacks 
the fort, we run out of powder. I run to a neighboring 
fort and borrow some, getting back in time to escape 
being captured by the Indians.” 

Hetty talked on as they walked to the scene of the 
Pageant. They found that the steep hillsides were already 
swarming with people. Never had Hetty seen so many 
in one place before. 

The stage was all set in the valley below them. At one 
end were the forts of the early settlers, at the other end 
were the Indian wigwams in neat rows to represent the 
Indian village. In the distance Hetty could see many 
horses with their riders prancing up and down in the 
valley. She explained to Father that they were really in 
the play. She supposed they were practicing now. 

It seemed a long time to Hetty before she heard the 
bugle call rounding up the players and announcing that 
everything was in readiness to begin. 

A large horn set up on a platform was used by the 
chairman of the program to explain the drama to the 
audience and to announce the acts of the Play. 

Hetty could hardly wait for the Play to begin. She 
was as excited about it as if she had not been a part of 
the Play for the past two weeks. It seemed so real today, 
somehow. 

The first act was announced, and before Hetty realized 
it, the Play was on. Episodes followed each other in such 



n8 THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


rapid and thrilling succession as to almost take her 
breath away. Never had it seemed so exciting and it 
was hard to imagine it was only make-believe. She was 
sitting near Father and she gripped his arm as each act 
became more enthralling, until he declared that there 
would be nothing left of him by the end of the Play. 

The first part of the Pageant was over, and Hetty hur¬ 
ried down the hillside to take her place in the fort. She 
realized that she was a bit shaky, for she was excited over 
watching the thrilling scenes of the first part of the Play. 
She felt a lump in her throat. She tried to swallow it, but 
it stayed there. Then she thought how glad she was that 
she didn’t have to do any talking, for she felt it would 
have been impossible at that moment. 

She heard the firing of guns. She seemed in a daze, 
when someone said, “There, Betty, that’s your cue. Run, 
child, run as you never ran in your life before! ” 

She found herself outside the fort. Now she knew 
what she was to do; run to the other fort and back. 
Feeling seemed to come back to her legs. She felt that 
the very life of the settlers in the fort depended on her 
getting to the neighboring fort and back in the shortest 
possible time. 

She dashed across to the opposite fort. There they put 
the powder horns in her shaking hands. She turned and 
started back. Never had her slim legs traveled over the 
ground so fast. She could hear the wild yells of the In¬ 
dians and hear their firing. What if she should not get 
there in time? 



AN INDIAN PAGEANT 


119 

That seemed to give new life to her and with an extra 
spurt she reached her goal. The door of the fort was 
thrown open and she was pulled inside, “Bravo! My 
child, that was fine! You’d make a good race horse!” 
cried a voice inside. 

It was all over, that is, her part in the Play was over, 
and she breathed easier. She could hear the Indian yells 
growing fainter and the shots less frequent. Finally they 
announced that the Pageant was over. She hurried out 
of the fort and up the hill where she had left her father. 

Hetty had told him to wait for her. She feared she 
would not be able to find him in the crowds that were 
leaving the hillsides. It was difficult for her to work her 
way between the moving people, but at last she reached 
an open space and looked around her. Father was wav¬ 
ing to her farther up. 

“How did you like it?” she cried as she came near 
him. 

“It was splendid! And my little girl was a real hero¬ 
ine ! ” he said holding her close. 

People were leaving in all directions. There were 
even several automobiles that passed them along the road. 
They were the first Hetty had seen since she and her 
father had started on their gypsy tour in the spring. 

After the Festival, Zanesfield appeared to shrink. It 
seemed even smaller than ever, but Hetty and her father 
were industriously finishing pictures and had no time to 
think about the lonesome town. Many of the pictures 
had been paid for and were to be mailed to the customers. 



120 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


On Saturday, at the end of a week of hard work, the 
last pictures were mailed and business was finished at 
Zanesfield. Father was pleased with his work in the 
town, thanks to the Festival, but Hetty knew that he was 
working entirely too steadily, although the harder he 
worked the nearer they were to purchasing the new cot¬ 
tage. 

That night Father said they would rest all day Sun¬ 
day, for they needed it and had earned it, but Monday 
morning they would leave Zanesfield for Merlin, a little 
canal town not very far distant. 

After dinner on Sunday, Hetty spent a while telling 
some of her especial friends good-bye; later she took 
Jeremiah under her arm and set out for a farewell visit 
with the twins. They had just awakened from their 
afternoon nap, and were in the best of humor. 

Hetty found that after romping with them awhile, she 
could actually tell them apart. Jean’s face was not quite 
as plump as Joan’s, and she was more active, too. She 
could take a few steps by herself, while Joan toppled over 
when Hetty let go of her hand. 

They liked Jeremiah, but were rather rough with him. 
He thought he was being mistreated, for never had he 
had his tail pulled in all his life before. That afternoon 
it was a common occurrence, although the twins did 
not mean to be rough. Hetty showed them how to pat 
the kitty. They would pat gently for a while, then 
bing! A little hand would come down with a crack, 
and Jeremiah would lay back his ears and meow. 



AN INDIAN PAGEANT 


121 


Hetty had worn her little red plaid gingham dress. 
Joan liked red; she patted the dress and said, “Prit-tee!” 

Hetty spent the happiest afternoon since she had left 
Fort Jefferson. It made her think of Lydia and the good 
times they had had together. She discovered Lydia’s pic¬ 
ture on the stand in the parlor. 

“Where did you get it?” she asked Mrs. Joslin, the 
babies’ mother. 

“Lydia’s mother sent it to me. It was taken while your 
father was in Fort Jefferson, wasn’t it?” she asked Hetty. 

“Of course it was. What a time we had taking it. We 
were both in a silly mood that day, and Lydia could 
hardly keep her face straight long enough to have a pic¬ 
ture taken. I had to leave the studio until Father had 
finished, or I would have made her laugh in the picture. 
I have one, too! I had Father make an extra one for me. 
I’m going to have him make a special one of the twins 
for me, too. Did you like their picture?” asked Hetty. 

“Yes, I like it. I think they are fine. I have given them 
all away but this one! ” 

Almost before Hetty knew it the afternoon was over. 
She kissed Jean and Joan good-bye, and hurried back to 
the little house on wheels. She found her father deeply 
absorbed in a big book. He looked up and smiled at her 
as she entered. 

“Did you have a nice afternoon?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes, Father, the twins are the dearest things I 
ever saw!” she cried happily. “I wish I could be near 
them always!” 





Chapter XII 

OFF WITH THE OLD AND ON WITH 
THE NEW 

Monday morning there was a mild bustle of departure, 
as Hetty and her father made things ready for leaving 
Zanesfield. She felt that they were changing their town, 
as some people change their gowns; not as often per¬ 
haps, but she knew that she had been in more towns dur- 
ing the summer than she had gowns, anyway. 

She had made many friends among the townspeople, 
and she had a feeling of regret at leaving the town, al¬ 
though she would not have liked living here always. 
Already she was looking forward to the new town and 
its occupants. 


122 



OFF WITH THE OLD AND ON WITH THE NEW 123 


As they drove past the Indian monument on their way 
out of town, Hetty waved a farewell to the bronze statue 
standing so straight and tall. She felt that somehow he 
understood her feelings. She had learned much of his 
tradition since that first morning in Zanesfield when she 
had sat at his feet listening to the tales of Uncle Mark. 
Since that time she had become a part of those very same 
stories, and they would always be a part of her, just as 
they were a part of every resident of the little town. 
They were not legends any more, but a part of life itself. 
She wondered if when she had grown as old as Uncle 
Mark, she could recall these adventures and tell them as 
vividly as the old gentleman had. 

The hot July sun beat down on the little house, until, 
as it neared the noon hour, it became almost unbearable. 
It was the hottest day they had had all month. Finally 
Father drove under a big oak tree on the roadside and 
unhitched Old Doll. He turned her loose to eat grass 
along the roadside. 

“Won’t she run off if she isn’t tied?” worried Hetty. 

“Not a chance, it’s much too hot! She’d rather eat 
the cool sweet grass in the shade; there are so many trees 
along the road. We’ll keep an eye on her anyway,” said 
Father. 

Hetty prepared a cold lunch, for Father insisted it was 
much too hot to cook anything. After they had eaten 
their lunch Father spread a thick comforter on the grass 
in the shade, and the two of them straightened out on 
its soft folds. Father signified his intention of resting 



THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


I2£ 

during the heat of the day. It would be pleasanter to 
finish the trip after sundown. 

A refreshing breeze sprang up during the early after¬ 
noon, which cooled the air so much that Hetty and her 
father fell sound asleep. When they awoke they felt 
much refreshed, and decided that they could continue 
their journey in comfort. 

Old Doll had been having such a grand time nipping 
the lush green grass along the roadside that Father had 
to fairly pull her away to hitch her up to the little house 
on wheels. They stopped at the next little red school- 
house to give the horse a drink of water, and to get a 
cooling drink for themselves. 

The rest of the journey was uneventful and just as the 
moon was rising over the edge of the distant woods, they 
drove down the streets of Merlin. 

Hetty had never seen such a queer town before. It 
reminded her of what she had read of Venice, Italy, for 
right through the center of the town was a canal, on 
each side of which was a street. These two streets seemed 
to be about all there was of Merlin. 

Father stopped the little house in front of a cottage 
with the sign MAYOR in the front room window, and 
went into the house. Hetty decided they did not have 
a city building in this town. She wondered if they would 
stay close to the canal, for she thought she would be able 
to have plenty of fun playing there. 

When Father returned to the Traveling Gallery, Mr. 
Meyers, the mayor, followed him out. 



OFF WITH THE OLD AND ON WITH THE NEW 125 


“I had almost given you up. Why are you so late?” 
he asked Father. 

“Well, you see, the Big Indian Festival that they had 
at Zanesfield made us so much extra work, that we 
could not get it finished and get here when I wrote you 
to expect us,” he explained. 

“The people have begun to think you were a fake, 
for I hung up the advertising that you sent me, and 
most of them could hardly wait to have their pictures 
taken. I think everyone in Merlin is counting on having 
his picture taken! ” the mayor declared. 

“That’s just what we want!” said Father. 

“Seems to me your health is none too good. You look 
thin! ” added the mayor. 

“We’ve worked very hard the last few weeks at Zanes¬ 
field, my helper and I. This is my daughter Hetty, and 
a big help she is, too!” said Father, smiling up at Hetty 
who was sitting on the high seat of the Picture Wagon as 
still as a mouse. 

Father climbed up to his seat beside Hetty and the 
mayor returned to the house. Hetty handed Father the 
lines and he drove the little house on down the street to 
a lot near the blacksmith shop. It had a lovely vacant 
lot next to it covered with sweet-smelling clover where 
Mr. Meyers told Father he could tether his horse. 

The next morning Hetty was up bright and early to 
tidy up the little house and get everything in readiness 
for a business rush. After listening to Mr. Meyers, she 
felt pleased and wondered how much they would make 



126 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


in the town. Each town meant that much nearer their 
future plans. 

The first week in Merlin was one of the busiest they 
had had all summer, for it seemed that everybody in the 
country wanted pictures taken that first week. After 
that, business lagged and Hetty found much time to 
spend playing along the canal. 

One day when she was wading along the edge of the 
canal to cool her tired feet, Johnny Meyers came down. 
He was the only son of the mayor and was about the 
age of Hetty. She had met him when he came with his 
mother and father to have a family group picture taken. 
She greeted him with, “Oh, hello, Johnny! What are 
you going to do?” 

His arms were full of thick boards which he dropped 
on the grassy bank. 

Tm making a raft. You know—to float on the 
water,” he replied. 

“Like Tom Sawyer?” asked Hetty. 

“I don’t know him,” answered Johnny. 

Hetty laughed at his seriousness. “Will you ride on 
it?” she asked him. 

“I will if it works!” he smiled back at her. “Would 
you ride on it, too, or would you be afraid?” 

“No, I wouldn’t be afraid if you rode on it,” she 
answered. “May I?” 

“Of course. I had most of it made before I brought 
it down here. Soon as I put the bolts in, it will be fin¬ 
ished,” he announced. 



OFF WITH THE OLD AND ON WITH THE NEW 127 


Hetty sat on the bank and watched him. He seemed 
so strong and sure of himself, but she thought that was 
because he was a boy. She could do most things that 
boys could do, but she knew her arms were not as strong. 

Johnny could lift those heavy boards. He swung the 
hammer as he nailed an extra strip across to hold the 
boards together. He had some wire too. He seemed to 
be using it to hold the boards tight. She supposed that 
was in case the nails slipped or something. 

Finally he threw down his hammer and cried, “There 
she is! Now let’s see if she works! ” 

Hetty laughed to herself, for she couldn’t for the life 
of her see why he called an old lifeless board “she,” but 
she said nothing, for she didn’t want to lessen her chance 
to ride on the only raft she had ever seen. 

Johnny picked up, or rather shoved the raft with both 
hands, holding on to a piece of wire attached to one end. 
It splashed as it struck the water, then it righted itself. 

“It floats all right! ” he cried. “Come on, get on! ” 

Hetty had taken off her shoes and stockings in order to 
wade in the water. Now she said she had better take 
them back to the little house, before she went on the 
“cruise.” Secretly she wished to ask Father if he thought 
it would be quite safe for her to ride with Johnny on his 
home-made raft. 

Father was not particularly keen about her riding on 
the raft, but he said, “The water isn’t very deep, and 
Johnny is old enough to know whether it is safe or not. 
I expect if you sit still, you will be all right.” 



128 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty did not need that final admonition, for she 
knew that she would sit still. She had read enough about 
what happens when one jiggles a boat, and she supposed 
a raft would be the same. 

When she got back to the canal, Johnny was already 
on the raft with a long pole in his hands which, he ex¬ 
plained, was to guide it by. 

Hetty very gingerly stepped on the raft and sat down 
in the middle of it. Johnny pushed it away from the 
bank with the pole, and the current seemed to carry it 
along. It was the first time that Hetty had ever been on 
the water. 

She was enjoying every minute. They drifted down 
stream and everything went fine until Johnny decided 
that it had gone far enough; he tried to turn it around 
and head it upstream. That wasn’t so easy! Johnny 
tugged and worked, but he gained not an inch. His face 
got the color of scarlet, and he puffed like a steam en¬ 
gine, but it did no good. 

Hetty, who had been enjoying the ride, thought it 
wasn’t going to be so much fun if they couldn’t get back. 

Johnny was plainly embarrassed, for he had asked 
Hetty to ride with him. What was he to do? 

Hetty thought of a plan. “Steer the raft over to the 
bank and we can walk back along the towpath,” she 
suggested. 

“I guess I’ll have to do it. I hate to let you walk back, 
but I guess that’s the only way. I just can’t make any 
headway up stream,” confessed Johnny. 




Hetty sat down in the middle of it 


















130 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“I think the wind is too strong for you, too,” consoled 
Hetty. 

Hetty did not say so, but she was thinking of walking 
that long trip back to town in her bare feet. She had 
not learned to do without shoes and her feet were very 
tender. Johnny did not think of that. His own feet had 
been bare all summer and were as brown as the ground 
on which he walked. 

After the children had stepped off the raft, Johnny 
pulled it by holding to the wire and walking along the 
path near the canal. Hetty picked her way along the 
path behind him. She did not want him to see how hard 
it was for her to walk on the rough path without shoes. 

As she came in sight of the little house she saw her 
father who had started on the hunt of her. He could 
see the canal for quite a distance from a window in the 
little house. When he missed the children, he was wor¬ 
ried and went in search of them. He laughed when 
Hetty told him they had to walk all the way back along 
the towpath. 

Father explained that many years ago they used that 
very canal for large boats which were pulled by mules 
walking along the bank, making a path. “That’s where 
it gets its name, tow-path. The mules towed the boat. 
Tow is another word for pull. It means especially ‘draw 
through the water with a rope,’ ” he said. 

“Then Johnny towed the raft back, didn’t he. 
Father?” laughed Hetty. 

“On a small scale, yes,” smiled Father. 



OFF WITH THE OLD AND ON WITH THE NEW 


131 

And then he announced that they would leave Merlin 
the next day. 

“It isn’t that we haven’t had much business; it’s only 
that the town is very small and there are few people in 
it,” he explained. 

Although Hetty had enjoyed her short, stay in the 
town, it was not like Friendly Village. None of the 
towns was like it, and she knew that none of them would 
ever take its place. 

Hetty could not figure out why there were so few 
babies in the town. Father told her that most of the 
people in the village were retired farmers and of course 
were not young. Most of them had children who were 
grown up and had babies of their own, and lived in 
other places. 

Almost before Hetty had time to realize it, they were 
leaving the queer little Venetian village far behind them. 

There had been a cooling rain the night before and 
Father thought the day would be fine for travel. 

That evening, after a rather commonplace trip, they 
drove into Cedar Springs, a town set deep down in the 
valley. 





Chapter XIII 

A FIRE IN THE LITTLE HOUSE 

For a whole week after coming to Cedar Springs, 
Hetty was as busy as a whole swarm of bees. She found 
no time to make friends with the children of the vil¬ 
lage, except, of course, as they came to the studio to 
have their pictures taken. 

The community seemed fairly alive with babies, and 
Hetty was glad. Father had taken so many pictures of 
them that Hetty had become very proficient in the art 
of holding their attention. She seemed always to know 
just what kind of faces to make, and what capers to cut 
to draw their interest. 

Father said she was a clown and a jumping jack com¬ 
bined. When her own antics failed to attract a timid or 
frightened baby, she would enlist the aid of Jeremiah, 
132 


A FIRE IN THE LITTLE HOUSE 


133 


and the two of them never failed to keep the baby quiet. 
Seldom did Father have to retake a baby’s picture. 

Hetty insisted that Jeremiah deserved part of the 
credit, for she felt that he had more than made up to 
Father for the prints he had spoiled. But something oc¬ 
curred the very next week that made Father feel that 
Jeremiah had earned a perfect right to call the Traveling 
Gallery his home. 

One morning after Hetty had swept and dusted the 
little house, she put a pot of beans on the stove to boil for 
the noonday meal. She could go on about her work of 
helping her father with the pictures and dinner would 
mostly prepare itself. The two were busy back in the 
dark room developing pictures when they heard a cry, 
“Meow! Meow! ” 

“What can be the matter with Jeremiah! ” cried Hetty, 
for she knew that he seldom made any noise unless he 
was hungry. She knew that he couldn’t be hungry, for 
he had left part of his breakfast. 

“Me-ow! Me-ow! ” came the insistent call, almost one 
of terror now. 

“I'm going to see what can be the matter with that 
cat!” declared Hetty, as she dried her hands and pro¬ 
ceeded to fix things so that she could open the door long 
enough to slip through. 

“Go on,” urged Father, “I’ll watch your plates while 
you are out.” 

When she opened the outer door of the darkroom, she 
was startled to find the little house filled with smoke. 



*34 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Father!” she cried, “the house is on fire!” and she 
rushed to the kitchen with Father close at her heels. 
Flames were climbing up the wall back of the oil stove. 
Jeremiah, in his box in the corner was struggling fran¬ 
tically to get out between the slats on top of the box. 

Hetty grabbed up a kettle of water that she had used 
to wash the beans; she dashed it against the flames. 
Father threw the contents of their water bucket on the 
fire. By that time the flames were out, but it was still 
smoldering, ready to burst out any minute. He rushed 
to the town pump, which was across the street from the 
little house, and returned with a bucket of water which 
finished putting out the fire. 

“I wonder how it could have started,” said Father, 
after the excitement was over, and Jeremiah had been 
taken out of his box where he lay trembling in Hetty’s 
arms. 

And when they investigated they found a half-burned 
dish cloth on the floor behind the stove. The cloth had 
been left too near the stove and when it had burned the 
flames caught the wall paper back of the stove. 

“It’s all my fault! I must have left the dish towel too 
near the burner. But if it hadn’t been for Jeremiah it 
might have been a lot worse!” reasoned Hetty as she 
hugged him close. 

“Righto!” hailed Father. “That’s once he did us an 
extra good turn, and he shall have his reward. How 
would you like to run over to the butcher’s and get him 
some liver for his dinner?” 



A FIRE IN THE LITTLE HOUSE 


J 35 


“He’ll love it!” cried Hetty. “Won’t you, kitty 
kat?” 

After this incident Jeremiah was allowed his freedom, 
although Hetty watched him rather carefully when he 
was in the house; she didn’t want him to lose his well- 
earned reputation again. 

There was really very little damage done by the fire. 
The wall paper was burned for a space behind the stove, 
but after the little house had been thoroughly aired and 
the wall repapered, there was scarcely any trace left of 
the fire that might have spelled disaster. 

Every Saturday evening found Hetty and her father 
poring over the account book, figuring how much they 
had taken in during the week. They would add it to 
their fast growing nest egg, to find how much they still 
lacked before they could buy the little cottage, and each 
Saturday found them that much nearer their goal. 

Their sum had mounted until the Saturday following 
the fire, Father announced that if they did as well in the 
next two weeks, they would have enough money to take 
over the little cottage. And he sat down immediately 
and wrote to Mr. Corwin, who had charge of the sale of 
it, to hold it for him. 

Hetty was happier than she had been in weeks. She 
danced around the little house singing, “The Campbells 
are coming! Tra-la-la-la!” Then she would change the 
words of the song and sing, “The Burketts are coming! 
Tra-la-la-la!” 

Father smiled at her antics, but he too felt much as 



136 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty did, and both of them were beginning to like 
Cedar Springs more and more. This was because they 
were kept busy with pictures, but also because they were 
looking forward to the time when they would have a 
real home of their very own. 

Cedar Springs was the largest town they had been in 
all summer. It was the county seat. People from all 
over the county came to pay their taxes in the big build¬ 
ing in the center of town. 

They came there for many other reasons, too. This 
brought many more customers to the Traveling Gallery. 
They in turn told their friends, who told others, until 
Father declared they would have to stay all summer to 
take care of all the people who wanted pictures taken. 

Hetty was working hard these days, but it was not 
like work to her now. Everything she did was a game, 
and when the game was ended, she would be in their 
own little cottage, near the town she loved best of all. 





Chapter XIV 
HAILSTONES 

Father received a letter from Mr. Corwin, saying that 
he had written just in time. It seems that shortly after 
receiving Mr. Burkett’s letter, he had had a chance to 
sell the cottage to a New York man, who was a writer. 
The man wanted it to use as atmosphere for his stories. 

“I’m glad you sent your letter when you did, Father. 
Just think how badly we would feel, if, after we have 
the money, we couldn’t buy the cottage that we both 
want! I’m sure we could never find another one that 
would suit us as well,” declared Hetty. 

The next week was a busy one. Father said that two 
more weeks would finish their work in Cedar Springs. 
Then they would start back to Friendly Village. 

Hetty was so excited about going back to the town 
she loved, that she fairly walked on air. Her feet seemed 
i37 


138 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


hardly to touch the ground. It was the first thing she 
thought of when she got up in the morning, and the 
last thing before going to bed at night. 

Sometimes she was so occupied with her thoughts that 
Father had to speak to her the second time to be heard. 
It even affected her cooking. She used sugar for salt, and 
salt for sugar, and never seemed to remember whether 
she had seasoned the food or not. 

Hetty had written several times to Lydia during the 
summer, but she had not mentioned the FOR SALE 
cottage. She wanted it to be a complete surprise to her. 

Lydia had answered Hetty’s last letter with a rather 
sorry tone about being lonesome. 

“I’m glad it won’t be long until school starts,” she 
wrote, “for I’m getting tired staying home. Where will 
you go to school?” 

Hetty chuckled to herself when she read that part of 
the letter. 

“How surprised Lydia will be when she finds out that 
we’ll go to school together!” thought Hetty as she read 
the letter for the fifth time. 

The days of that last week in Cedar Springs seemed 
long to Hetty. Each day grew longer than the one be¬ 
fore, until Hetty declared the days were made of rubber 
and seemed always to stretch themselves out. 

Friday was one of those hot days of middle August, 
>vhen there was not a breath of air stirring. 

“It will surely storm today!” predicted Father as he 
went about the business of mixing the developer. 



HAILSTONES 


i 39 


“I hope it doesn’t!” replied Hetty. “I want the sun to 
shine so we can finish up those last prints.” 

“Yes, I hope so too, Hetty, for that extra spurt last 
week, when the people found out we were thinking of 
leaving soon, has indeed worked us overtime,” declared 
Father. “Unless we can finish all of the pictures in the 
next two weeks, we must wait until later to leave.” 

“Couldn’t you send them back to them by mail?” 
asked Hetty. 

“Yes, of course, I could, but I don’t want pictures to 
worry about when we get in our new home. I want to 
spend my time fixing up the place.” 

“That will be heaps of fun! I can help you paint, 
can’t I, Father?” insisted Hetty. “At least I can help 
with the inside woodwork. I like to paint.” 

“Certainly you may help, but I’ll need you most to 
help with the planning,” explained her father. 

Just then Hetty noticed some black clouds in the sky. 

“I’m afraid it is going to storm after all!” she an¬ 
nounced. 

“Say, it does look bad!” agreed Father, looking out of 
the window. “We’d better put the windows down; then 
we won’t need to worry about them.” 

And they had just closed the windows, when there was 
a terrific roll of thunder. The rain started to fall, gently 
at first, then harder, gradually turning into hailstones. 
These were small at first, getting larger as the storm 
progressed, until immense hailstones as large as hen s 
eggs were beating upon the little house. 



140 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


The skylight in the studio of the Traveling Gallery 
had resisted the small hailstones, but when the larger 
ones beat against the panes, they were shattered to bits. 
Crash! Bang! Crash! Bang! And the small windows 
went on breaking. The noise was deafening. Hetty was 
terrified. 

She thought the little house was surely falling to 
pieces! She and her father were standing by the front 
door in the tiny reception room, watching the hailstones 
as they bounced on the grass, filling up the hollows until 
the yard looked as if there had been a snowstorm. When 
the skylight crashed, they saw the glass fly in all direc¬ 
tions. The studio door was open and some of the pieces 
of glass fell near their feet. 

“I’m glad we weren’t in the studio! We might have 
been hurt!” said Father as he pulled Hetty into the 
farthest corner. 

The hailstorm lasted only a few minutes, but it seemed 
like hours to the terror-stricken Hetty, holding on to her 
father’s arm. 

When the storm had ceased, they surveyed their loss. 
Every single pane in the large skylight was missing, shat¬ 
tered to bits by the hail! Hetty could not keep the tears 
back when she saw the destruction in the little studio 
that she had so carefully dusted that morning, or was it 
that morning? It seemed as if it were a long time ago. 

“Get the broom, Hetty, and we’ll try to gather up the 
glass,” said Father, looking for all the world as if he had 
been hit by the hailstones himself. 



HAILSTONES 


141 

In a daze Hetty helped sweep up the scraps of glass, 
picking up the larger pieces and putting them in a pile 
near the front door. 

Father brought in the mopstick, for much rain had 
come through the broken windows, together with the 
large hailstones which had melted on the floor where 
they lay making tiny puddles of water. 

Nothing was really badly damaged in the studio ex¬ 
cept the back-drop curtains, and Father said he could 
easily repaint them. Fortunately Father’s camera, the 
pride of his life, was out of range of the skylight; it had 
been covered with its usual hood, a rubberized black 
cloth which hid it completely. 

When the room was cleared of glass, Father said, ‘Til 
have to get those lights replaced as soon as possible, for 
it may rain again soon!” 

While he went across the street to the hardware store 
to see about having the glass put in the skylight, Hetty 
tried her best to keep cheerful. Father was feeling so 
badly about his loss that it wouldn’t do for her to make 
things worse by crying. She knew that seventy-five panes 
of glass would cost a lot, even if they were small. It 
would take quite a sum from their nest egg, as they 
called their savings. 

Father had said that in two weeks they would be 
ready to take over the little cottage. Now it would take 
as much as they had made for some time to replace the 
broken glass. 

While Hetty was thinking about it, Father returned 



142 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


with a man from the store. He had come over to 
measure for the glass. 

“That’s the biggest order of glass we’ve had for a long 
time!” declared the hardware clerk. “I’ll just take the 
frame over to the store and fit the glass in it.” 

At the supper table that night Father explained that 
they would have to give up buying the little cottage, be¬ 
cause it had cost so much for a skylight. 

“But Father,” protested Hetty, “couldn’t we just wait 
a couple of weeks longer? Maybe we could make that 
much more.” 

“We were waiting two weeks as it was; enough more 
to pay for the glass would run it into September, and 
you know the cottage is to be sold at auction the first 
day of September, unless it is taken before that time,” 
answered Father. “I must write to Mr. Corwin and tell 
him not to hold it for us, as we can’t make it by the first. 
No doubt he will sell it to that writer fellow from New 
York.” 

“Let’s not write to him just yet,” suggested Hetty, try¬ 
ing to put off the fateful day. 

“Why not? We will find one later when we have 
more money,” said Father. 

“Yes, but we’ll never find one that we like as well, or 
as near Fort Jefferson!” said Hetty. “Let’s not write this 
week, anyhow.” 

“Well, all right, if it will make you feel any better, 
we’ll wait and write the first of next week,” agreed 
Father. 



Chapter XV 

HETTY OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION 

The next morning Hetty slept late; her father had 
heard her groaning in the night and knew that she had 
not slept well, so he did not call her at the usual time. 
He was quite busy with pictures, but he could wait for 
her help. They would not need to hurry now. There 
would be all the time in the world, he thought sadly, 
for he was more disappointed than he had admitted to 
Hetty. 

He saw how deeply she had felt the loss, and he tried 
to make her sorrow less by telling her they would find a 
cottage just as nice, or perhaps a house they would like 
even better. 

When Hetty did awake, she dressed quickly, for she 
H3 


144 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


knew by the sun that it was late. Why hadn’t her father 
called her? Then she remembered the events of the day 
before, and it was as if a cloud had drifted across the 
bright sun. She tried to appear in her usual good humor 
as she came into the room where Father was busily work¬ 
ing with his prints. 

“Father, why didn’t you call me?” she reproved him. 

“Early to bed and early to rise only applies to the old 
and the wise!” laughed Father. 

“It’s ’most time for dinner now, isn’t it, Father?” she 
asked. 

“Yes, now since you mentioned it, I do feel a little 
empty! Get dinner now, and you can eat breakfast while 
I eat dinner,” joked her father. 

“I’ll do that. Only I’ll eat breakfast and dinner to¬ 
gether,” she insisted, as she started for the kitchen. 

She found that it would be necessary to get some gro¬ 
ceries before she could finish with the meal, so she de¬ 
cided to go at once. She took her little market basket 
and her housekeeping pocketbook and she started for 
the grocery, which was about three blocks down the 
street on the opposite side. 

“I’ll not be gone long,” she called back to her father. 

The grocery store was filled with men discussing the 
storm of the day before and the havoc it had caused. 

Hetty listened to their conversation indifferently, 
while she waited her turn to be served. Suddenly she 
heard her father’s name mentioned. She started to listen 
carefully so as not to miss anything. 



HETTY OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION 145 


“The storm sure hit Mr. Burkett hard! It must have 
cost him a pretty penny to replace all the glass in the top 
of his Picture Gallery,” said one of the men. 

“No doubt it did,” said another. “That’s surely a fine 
little house on wheels.” 

“Say, Boss,” said a third, “that would be just the thing 
for you! Just the thing to keep your tools in when you 
are out on a road contract.” 

“It would at that! You don’t suppose the picture man 
wants to sell it, do you?” asked the one addressed as 
Boss. 

“No, I don’t suppose he does, but you might have one 
made like it. It is surely fine,” replied the third speaker. 

Hetty could hardly wait to get back to the little house. 
Why couldn’t they sell the little house on wheels? They 
wouldn’t need it if they could buy the cottage, and they 
could buy the cottage if they sold the Traveling Gallery! 
And she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. 

“Father,” she cried, all out of breath, as she opened 
the screen door of the little house, “there’s a man in the 
grocery who wants to buy the little house on wheels— 
couldn’t we—we could buy—couldn’t we, Father?” 

“What’s this? What’s this?” exclaimed Father. 

Then Hetty explained to Father that she had heard 
the men in the grocery talking about the little house on 
wheels, and that one man, who, she thought, was their 
boss, said he would like to have one just like it! He 
wanted it to keep his tools in. 

Father thought it a perfectly good idea, but he feared 



146 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


it was just idle talk, and would not mean anything. How¬ 
ever, he decided it would not hurt anything if he went 
down to the store and inquired. 

“While you get dinner, I’ll walk to the grocery and see 
what I can find out,” announced Father. 

Hetty was so excited she could hardly peel the apples 
for the sauce. Her fingers were all thumbs. Anyway, 
she would have an especially good dinner, for she sud¬ 
denly realized that she was enormously hungry. She was 
sure she could eat both breakfast and dinner and a fair 
amount of each. 

When the meal was ready, Hetty went to the door to 
watch for her father. 

Presently she saw him coming down the street with 
the Boss by his side, talking earnestly. She jumped up 
and down for very joy. It could mean only one thing; 
the stranger really did want a little house on wheels. 

Father introduced the gentleman to Hetty. Then he 
said, “This man would like to see the rooms of our little 
house.” 

When he had finished looking at the house from re¬ 
ception room to darkroom, the stranger said, “Well, Mr. 
Burkett, this is a fine house on wheels, and I’ll take it 
and give you what you ask for it. When can I take pos¬ 
session?” 

“That’s just it. If I let you have it now, how will we 
get back to our new home, and how can we finish the 
pictures we have left to do?” puzzled Father. 

“Where is this farm of yours?” asked the stranger. 



HETTY OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION 147 


“It’s about a mile from Fort Jefferson, in Summit 
County. Quite a way from here,” answered Father. 

“Summit County! That’s where I’m planning to go. 
That’s where we make the new state macadam road. It’s 
out from the county seat, but I guess I can go a few miles 
out of my way to get you folks back to your own town. 
And I’ll wait until you finish your pictures. I have a 
little business to attend to, anyway, which will take me 
several days. I live here in Cedar Springs, but I build 
roads all over the state,” explained the stranger. 

And so it was agreed that when the pictures were all 
finished, the Boss, as Hetty called him, would hitch up 
his team to the Traveling Gallery and Old Doll could 
follow along behind. They could go faster that way. 

Hetty could hardly contain herself in the remaining 
days at Cedar Springs. She worked early and late at 
Father’s side to get the work done as quickly as possible. 
As they worked, they planned, and this time it was no 
dream which might turn into a nightmare, as Father 
said, but something for which they knew they had the 
money. Mr. Lorry, for that was the real name of the 
Boss, had paid Father a good price for the little house on 
wheels. He said there would be enough to finish the pay¬ 
ment on the cottage, and to remodel the house besides. 

Father had written to Mr. Corwin to hire someone to 
clean up the place and have it ready for them. 

Hetty felt that she could hardly wait until their work 
was finished at Cedar Springs. Finally the last day ar¬ 
rived. They would leave on the morrow. 




Chapter XVI 

A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 

Hetty felt that she would always remember that last 
morning at Cedar Springs. She was up long before the 
sun, although Father had said there was no need for 
extra early rising, as they were not to leave until seven 
o’clock. But she was so full of excitement that she could 
not sleep. 

Everything had been put in readiness the day before, 
so there was only breakfast to prepare and dishes to 
wash. This took scarcely any time at all. Accordingly 
six o’clock found Hetty with time on her hands. The 
little house had been put in order, Jeremiah had been 
given his milk, and Hetty herself had put on her best 
dress for the occasion. 


148 















A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


149 


She determined to take one last look at the town. She 
started with Jeremiah in her arms down the main street 
of the little city. It seemed like a city to Hetty for it was 
ever so much larger than the other towns that she had 
visited during the summer. 

Hetty had been so busy before, that she had seen very 
little of the town which was to be the last one in their 
travels. Now she took time to look around her. 

It was a very nice town, but in her mind it compared 
most unfavorably with their first town, Fort Jefferson. 
Its one church was a frame building, neither as large 
nor as fine as the one in Friendly Village, which she had 
attended with Lydia, Its school building, a two-story 
structure, was quite modern in appearance, but Hetty 
decided that the brick was not as bright as the one in 
her best-loved town. 

She had to admit that the houses here were similar. 
The stores were larger, she knew, and there were more 
of them, but she was sure that she liked the stores in 
Friendly Village better; at least, she knew the owners of 
them, which meant more. 

Hetty was thinking of Friendly Village, and how glad 
she would be to see it again. She walked on, not no¬ 
ticing how far she was going, until she saw there was 
no more sidewalk. Then she thought it was high time 
that she turned back. She walked much faster on the 
way back. 

As she came near the little house on wheels, she saw 
that the Boss was there with his team and several men 



i5o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


were helping him. They were putting a doubletree on 
the front of the little house where the singletree had 
been. 

Of course, they would need it changed, for the Boss 
was going to use his two fine roan horses to pull the 
Traveling Gallery. Old Doll was to walk behind, but 
Hetty wondered if she could keep up with Mr. Lorry’s 
lively pair. The old horse was used to sauntering along 
at her pleasure, but these horses looked as if they wanted 
to run away. 

Father, who was watching the men, called to Hetty 
as she came near, “All aboard! Train leaves in ten min¬ 
utes. Track six! ” 

Hetty laughed at Father’s joke, for it was good to see 
him in such jubilant spirits. She hoped he would always 
be that gay in the future. He would be, she thought, if 
he became strong and well, as he was sure to do out in 
the country, where the air is always fresh and pure. 
Then he could have plenty of fresh sweet milk to drink, 
too. He would not need to work as steadily, and could 
rest when he felt like it. 

Hetty said no good-byes at Cedar Springs. She had 
been too busy to make any special friends, but as the 
strange conveyance passed through the town on its 
way out, the few people on the streets at this early hour 
waved a pleasant farewell to them as they passed. 

Hetty returned their greetings with an extra large 
smile for good measure. She could afford to be generous 
now. When she turned her thoughts ahead she saw 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


X 5 i 


nothing but smiling days in the future, and she was 
supremely happy. 

As the trip was a very long one, and they were in a 
hurry to get there, Father and the Boss had decided to 
drive all day and all night, stopping only long enough 
for meals. 

Hetty agreed to cook for the Boss and his two help¬ 
ers who had come with him. The Boss, who was really 
Mr. Lorry, said he would pay her board money, and 
she could buy something for herself with it. She was 
pleased, for she thought of many things she would need 
before school opened. She had had no new clothes since 
leaving the city. 

As Hetty thought of the city now, it seemed to her 
a long, long time since she had left it. So much had 
happened since that spring day in early April, when 
she and her father had set out on their gypsying travels. 
What a lovely summer it had been! And what good 
times were now in store for her back in Friendly 
Village. 

The day was unusually pleasant for the month of 
August and Hetty was enjoying every minute of it. 

The Boss and his men with Father were sitting on 
the long seat they had fixed in front of the Traveling 
Gallery, talking about politics, the weather, and other 
current topics. Hetty sat on the end near her father, 
but she paid no attention to their conversation. She 
was busy with thoughts of her own and they were 
indeed happy ones. 



152 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


She watched the farmers working in the fields as 
they passed. How different the fields looked now, from 
those she had seen on their first day out of the city. 
The corn that was being planted then was now fully 
grown with long, heavy ears hanging down from the 
stocks and feathery tassels on top. The wheat and oats 
had been harvested, and the hay put in barns. Hetty 
had learned a great deal about the country in those few 
months of traveling about it. Father never tired of 
answering her questions. Lydia had been such a help 
to her, too. 

She almost laughed out loud when she thought of 
Lydia and how surprised she would be when she found 
out they were going to be neighbors. Not close neigh¬ 
bors, but what was a mile and a half? Father said that 
was about the correct distance. 

They would be one mile from Friendly Village. 
Lydia was one-half mile from town on the other side. 
They could walk back and forth easily. They would 
meet at school, and they could even go to Sunday School 
and church together. 

Hetty gave a sigh of content when she thought of 
the time she had gone to church with Lydia. She could 
feel the lovely music even now, and to think she could 
hear it every Sunday from now on! 

When the Traveling Gallery and its occupants 
stopped at the noon hour, Hetty bustled around the 
kitchen preparing dinner. She realized that she must 
cook more than twice as much as usual. 




A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


153 


She counted the potatoes; two for each of the men 
and one for herself. Would that be enough, she won¬ 
dered? She added two more for good measure, for she 
wanted them to have plenty. Now about the ham; 
Father had cut up a generous supply for her only the 
day before. She trimmed it carefully, cutting it into 
moderate-sized pieces. 

While the potatoes boiled and the ham fried, Hetty 
divided her time between watching the stove and set¬ 
ting the little drop-leaf table. She found that by using 
both leaves she would have room for five places. She 
crowded her own plate as near Father’s as she could. 
That would leave more room for the men. 

When everything was on the table ready to be eaten, 
Hetty looked it over to be sure it was right; a large 
platter of ham fried to a delicious brown, a dish of 
mashed potatoes with a bit of butter and pepper right 
on top of the mound, a tureen of apple sauce left from 
the day before, and a bowl of gravy made with milk. 
Then there was jam, and butter, and bread. She filled 
each glass with some cool water and put a cup of 
hot coffee at each place where the men were to sit. 

The men had been busy feeding the horses and giv¬ 
ing them water from the well. They were coming 
toward the little house just as Hetty went to the door 
to announce that dinner was ready. 

“May we have a pan and some soap?” asked the 
Boss. “We’d better wash up or this little cook will 
fire us.” 



154 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty gave them a washpan, soap, and clean towels, 
and they went to wash. Soon they were back in the 
little kitchen ready for their dinner. Hetty did not sit 
down to eat until the men had been served. 

When they had finished the meal, the Boss turned 
to Father and said, “You have a mighty fine cook here, 
Burkett! What will you take for her? I need a cook, 
too!” 

“I’m afraid she’s not for sale,” said Father. “I 
couldn’t get along without her. She’s all I have.” 

The rest at the noon hour made the remainder of the 
day’s journey less tiresome. 

Supper took only a short time, and before Hetty 
realized it, the stars were coming out one by one in the 
heavens, making it look like a Christmas tree. She 
pointed out the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. The 
Big Dipper was quite plain, and as it was upside down, 
Hetty exclaimed, “The water’s all run out, Father! It 
won’t rain for a long time! ” 

The moon, too, rose gradually from behind the dis¬ 
tant woods and hung like a huge ball of fire in the blue- 
black sky. When Hetty tired of counting the stars, she 
traced the features of the man in the moon, and 
imagined he was watching her. She felt that he, too, 
knew of her happiness and was smiling with her. It 
made her eyelids heavy to watch the sky, but Father 
knew that she was tired and sleepy. 

“Why don’t you put your little cot down and take a 
nap?” he advised. 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


155 


“Will you call me before we reach our new cottage?” 
she asked him. 

“Yes, of course, but we won’t be there until morning. 
You’ll be awake then!” insisted Father. 

Hetty unfastened her small bed from its place on the 
wall, and before she had finished saying her prayer 
she was sound asleep. 

The men had arranged to take turns driving, so that 
each of them could get some sleep. They spread the 
horse blankets on the floor of the little studio, and 
Father put some comforters on top. This made them a 
very good bed. They said it was much better than they 
were used to having when they were out on the road. 

When Hetty opened her eyes the next morning, 
Father was bending over her saying, “We’re almost 
there, Hetty. You said I should call you.” 

Could it possibly be morning, she thought, as she 
rubbed her eyes to make them stay open? She felt that 
she had just closed them only a minute before. 

“I slept quite a while myself!” confessed Father. 

By the time Hetty was dressed the little house on 
wheels drew up in front of the home of Mr. Clem, who 
had charge of the FOR SALE cottage. 

Father went in the house to talk to him, and when 
he came out he was jingling some keys in his hand. 

“Mr. Clem has the place all fixed up for us,” he an¬ 
nounced. “He has fed the cows and the chickens, but 
hasn’t milked the cow yet. Now that we are here we 
can do it for ourselves!” 



156 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“Oh, goody, goody!” cried Hetty. “We can have 
fresh milk for our breakfast!” 

“Yes, of course, we can. I’ll milk the cow while you 
get something to eat. We wouldn’t want these gentle¬ 
men to leave without a good breakfast to start the day 
right,” said Father. 

As they drove up the short lane to the cottage, Hetty 
noticed that the grass and weeds had been cut, and the 
boards removed from the windows. The FOR SALE 
sign was gone, too, and Hetty realized for the first time 
that it wasn’t a FOR SALE cottage any longer; it was 
their very own home, the home of the Burketts. She 
was so happy that she felt that she could fly, if she only 
had a good pair of wings. 

“Did you tell Mr. Clem to have the grass cut, too?” 
asked Hetty, coming down to earth again. 

“Yes, I told him I wanted the house and yard put in 
tiptop shape—that is—I meant cleaned up, and he sure¬ 
ly carried out instructions! It doesn’t look like the same 
place,” rejoiced Father. 

It took only a minute to open the doors and windows 
and let the fresh morning air and sunshine into the 
little cottage. 

The Boss helped Father carry the coal oil stove into 
the new kitchen, and Hetty set about preparing break¬ 
fast. 

The kitchen seemed so large, after being used to the 
tiny one of the little house on wheels, that Hetty won¬ 
dered if she would get lost in it! It would not seem 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


i57 


as big when the furniture was put in its place, she felt 
sure. 

Father took a bucket and went to the barn to milk 
the cow, while the men continued to carry every bit of 
the furniture from the little house on wheels into the 
new cottage. The Boss wanted only the house. 

Father soon returned with a bucket of foaming milk 
and some eggs that he found in the manger. After 
straining it, Hetty filled each glass at the table with the 
warm sweet milk. She fried a big platter of bacon and 
some of the newly laid eggs. The men had carried the 
small drop-leaf table into the new kitchen, and Hetty 
had put up the leaves and set it with five places. 

It didn’t take those men long to dispose of Hetty’s 
breakfast. Each one had a large bowl of cornflakes, be¬ 
sides the bacon and eggs, and bread and jam, to say 
nothing of the steaming hot coffee. 

Hetty was pleased that the men liked her cooking 
well enough to “lick the platter clean.” She was even 
more pleased over the money that the Boss slipped into 
her apron pocket. It was much more than she had ex¬ 
pected. She could hardly wait to spend it. 

Even Jeremiah had a specially good breakfast. He 
looked as if he had white whiskers after he drank his 
saucer of sweet, foamy milk. 

As the men drove away in the little house on wheels, 
after telling the Burketts good-bye, the Boss remarked, 
“Nice folks, these Burketts. I hope he gets some color 
in his face out here in the country.” 



15 8 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


Hetty and her father stood at the gate watching the 
Traveling Gallery, as it moved down the lane. And 
they could not help feeling a pang of regret at its go¬ 
ing. They had had many happy days in the little house, 
and they felt that they really owed it a debt of grati¬ 
tude, for without it they would not have been able to 
buy their little country cottage. 

“Good-bye, little house, good-bye!” cried Hetty, as 
she brushed away a tear with the back of her hand. 

Then she thought of the many lovely things in store 
for her. She grabbed her father’s hand and fairly pulled 
him back to the little cottage, which was waiting to be 
inspected more fully. 

Hetty did not stop to wash the dishes now! She and 
her father explored every inch of the place, including 
the barn, where Old Doll had been put in her stall. 
She took Jeremiah with her, for she felt that he was 
going to be as happy in the new home as they were. He 
could have the whole barn for his home. 

The cow was in the barnyard, and Hetty just had to 
stop and pat her. She, too, appeared glad to have some 
one near her, for she rubbed her head against Hetty’s 
sleeve in a friendly manner. 

“What is her name, Father?” she asked. “Do you 
know?” 

“No, I didn’t ask Mr. Clem, but we’ll have to find 
out, won’t we?” returned her father. 

“She’s a Jersey cow, isn’t she, Father?” inquired 
Hetty, rubbing the gentle cow’s sleek sides. 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


159 


“Yes, she’s a Jersey, all right. She looks as if she 
might be pure bred,” replied her father. 

“I’m going to learn to milk, too!” announced Hetty. 

She was so delighted with everything about the place 
that she raced from one thing to another, admiring and 
planning what they could do to improve it. 

She could hardly wait to arrange the furniture in the 
house, and put up some curtains. She realized they 
would need to buy a few pieces of new furniture to sup¬ 
plement what they had in the Traveling Gallery. 

She was enthusiastic over the real fireplace in the living 
room. It had been boarded up, as if it had not been 
used for a long time, but Father said he could easily 
fix it so they could make a log fire in it. Mr. Clem had 
had the inside of the house cleaned as well as the yard, 
and it fairly shone. The windows sparkled in the early 
morning sun. 

There was a large pantry where Father planned to 
make a darkroom. Here he could do pictures in his 
spare time. There would always be weddings, con¬ 
firmations, and family group pictures to be taken, to 
say nothing of the new babies that would come from 
time to time. 

Hetty and her father went on planning until the 
morning had slipped by before either of them realized 
it. Hetty had not even cleared away the breakfast 
dishes. She decided to do both the breakfast and the 
dinner dishes together. She hurriedly prepared a lunch 
for them, for Father had promised to go with Mr. Clem 



i6o 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


to town in the afternoon to finish the deed for the 
little cottage. 

“You may ride to town with us and go over to see 
Lydia and tell her the good news/’ said Father. 

“Not today, Father, Til stay home and straighten up 
a bit. Then maybe I’ll go over tomorrow and bring 
Lydia home with me for supper,” insisted Hetty, as 
she planned what she would do while he was away. 

That evening when Father returned it was to a 
house of order and neatness. He could hardly believe 
his eyes! It seemed hardly possible that Hetty could 
accomplish so much in such a short time. 

The next day Hetty herself had two surprises. When 
she went to the barn to hunt for eggs in the haymow, 
she found Jeremiah cuddled up in a nest with a family 
of four baby kittens! She ran to the house as fast as 
she could go, for she could hardly wait to tell her 
father. 

The other surprise came when she was in the kitchen 
clearing away the dinner dishes. She heard a gentle 
rap! rap! at the door, and when she looked, there stood 
Lydia! 

Hetty had thought of going to Lydia’s that very 
afternoon and surprising her, but here was Lydia doing 
the surprising herself. Hetty was too surprised to talk. 
She could only say, “Oh!” and the two girls were in 
each other’s arms. 

“How did you know we were here?” asked Hetty, 
when she could find words to express herself. 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


161 


“Father came home from town last night and told 
us that you had bought the Stein place, and had just 
moved there. I—” 

“Did you say this is the Stein place?” interrupted 
Hetty excitedly. 

“Why, yes, why do you ask? We—didn’t you know 
—isn’t it—” stammered Lydia, not understanding the 
nature of Hetty’s excitement. 

“My, I’m glad! This is the place that Mr. Stifel told 
me about. He said they used to call it the Hunted 
House. Won’t it be fun! We can hunt for treasures 
all the time!” cried Hetty, dancing around the room. 
“Why didn’t you come earlier?” 

“I wanted to come the first thing this morning, but 
I had to help Mother with the churning. She sent you 
some fresh butter, too. She thought I might help you 
straighten up your house, but it looks as if you were all 
finished! ” added Lydia. 

“Of course you may help us. We’ll find something 
to do, and thanks for the butter. I’ll have to learn how 
to make butter myself, won’t I? First, I want to show 
you everything about our little farm!” insisted Hetty. 

They stopped to talk to Father, who came in at that 
minute. He had spoken to Lydia when she first came 
into the yard, “Go to the door quietly and surprise 
Hetty!” he had told her in a low tone, and she had 
followed his instructions. 

After the two girls had gone the rounds of the house 
and yard, they proceeded to the barn. 




162 


THE TRAVELING GALLERY 


“I have a surprise for you! ” cried Hetty, running on 
ahead to open the barn door. She led the way up the 
ladder to the haymow. 

“Kittens!” exclaimed Lydia. “This can’t be Jere¬ 
miah!” 

“The same,” laughed Hetty. “One never knows what 
a prophet will do! Anyway, I’ve changed his name. 
It’s Deborah now!” 

“That’s fine. I think Deborah ought to make a 
good mother,” affirmed Lydia, and the two girls laughed 
merrily. 

It was like old times! Hetty and Lydia were together 
again, with many happy days in store for them both. 
Hetty was reminded of the very first afternoon she had 
spent at Lydia’s, only today it was reversed; Hetty was 
doing the showing around, and Lydia was looking on. 
And both of them were happy. 

Arm in arm they walked back to the house. They 
stopped for a minute at the orchard to the right of the 
cottage to see if there were some apples that they could 
eat. Hetty picked up some big Yellow Bellflower ap¬ 
ples and put them in her apron which she used as a 
sack to carry them. 

“Apple dumplings for supper, Lydia, can you stay?” 
asked Hetty. 

“Yes, of course I can, if you want me,” she replied 
with her mouth full of apple. “These Bellflowers are 
good!” 

Hetty looked about her. Everything was green and 



A HOME ALL THEIR OWN 


163 


lovely. The air was sweet with the fragrance of ripe 
fruit. It seemed almost like a dream to her, with Lydia 
here. Would she wake up and have it all disappear? 

The girls found many things to do that afternoon. 
To give them a long evening, Hetty decided to have 
an early supper. They could milk the cow, gather the 
eggs, and do many other things in the evening. 

Lydia peeled the apples, while Hetty made the dough 
for the dumplings, and while they baked, she set the 
table for three. She found some oxeye daisies in the 
corner of the garden for a centerpiece for the table. 
She wanted everything to look as nice as possible for 
her guest. 

She skimmed the cream from the pan of milk left 
from the morning milking. She thought it would be 
good on the dumplings. When they were baked to a 
golden brown, Hetty called her father, who was pull¬ 
ing some weeds in the little garden back of the house. 

Hetty and her father knew that this was the best 
meal they had ever eaten together. They felt this be¬ 
cause they were in their own home. And as Father 
looked across the table at Hetty and Lydia, he had a 
feeling of perfect contentment. 

Hetty glanced up at her father at that moment and 
she herself had a feeling like a flame that warmed her 
through. There was nothing in all the world that could 
begin to measure their real happiness at that moment. 



















































I 









































































jriLr 


BABY ROSE. 


LYDIA 












































































































































